


Expect the Unexpected

by deilen_gwyrdd



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Angsty Thranduil, Comfort/Angst, Confused Fili, Crazy Dwarves, Family Feels, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Parent Thranduil, Romance, Secret Relationship, Sibling Incest, Swearing, Uncle Thorin being a good Uncle, dori being a pain in the backside, kid Legolas, slight Bilbo/Smaug, sweet Dwalin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2017-12-09 03:26:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 80,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deilen_gwyrdd/pseuds/deilen_gwyrdd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori and Dwalin have no choice but to keep their new found relationship from Ori's older brother Dori, fearing his mighty wrath and dislike of Dwalin himself. Kili has feelings for his own brother after one night of a drunken mistake, that lead to their relationship falling apart, and driving Fili insane. And Thorin, well, he's slowly but surely falling in love with his enemy of who knows how long, just because he decided to show some support during a bad time. Life in London, really couldn't be more interesting.</p><p>ON HIATUS!! Sorry! Too busy to continue now.. Will continue in the future, promise! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prequel

**Author's Note:**

> Just for somemore warnings:  
> 1\. I've made Fili/Kili half brothers.. cos it's slightly less incest.. kinda..  
> 2\. Fili is younger than Kili.. he's always been younger to me since I read the book as a kid, sorry if you prefer him older!  
> 3\. It's an AU! Which means all the characters will basically be looking like the actors.. like Ori will have glasses, short hair, cute jumpers etc..  
> 4\. Everything's based in a small part of London, tattoo shop, bakery, florists... 
> 
> And I won't be updating this fic one day after the other, I have to admit, personal stuff. But I'll try and update as much as possible! But for now, here's the prequel to get you guys started! :)
> 
> Here's a crappy poster I made to go with it too.. http://24.media.tumblr.com/798b8906953de5773a8d73d66541db6a/tumblr_mlmii8DtdA1ri5e0xo1_500.jpg

“Ori!”

A loud and very annoyingly high pitched voice screeched up the stairs, through the landing, and right under the door, reaching a sleeping man’s ear drums. It was just enough noise to wake up the poor guy, who was having none of that nonsense.

He was going to keep on sleeping. And lay there like a lazy teenager on a Saturday morning, reminiscing in the fact that he had two whole days off work. Just thinking about it made him feel so much better; he was thanking whatever god was up there that his boss had to shut his part of the museum down for the beginning of the week. 

“Ori! Get up!”

There it was again. That voice of reason, the voice of a man who could yell across the ocean, and the whole of France would be able to hear it. Ori groaned. He knew exactly where this was going, and he really ought to put a lock on his damn door.

“ORI!”

A door was flung open, by the sound of it. Footsteps were approaching his bed, and by now Ori had clung tighter to his blanket, hiding himself in a thick, Dori proof cocoon. “Up young man!” He heard his brother say above him. “Remember what day it is!”

Ori moaned under the quilt. “It’s my day off!” It came out more like a mumble.

“It is your day off,” was Dori’s too cheerful answer, as he began pulling at the edges of the younger man’s cocoon. “but you promised Nori you’d spend it with him, since you’ve been stuck at that museum day in and day out!”

“Exactly!” Ori flipped the quilt off of himself suddenly, glaring daggers at his older brother. “I deserve some sleep and peace! At least for the morning until Nori gets time off work this afternoon!”

“He hasn’t got time off this afternoon.” Dori crossed his arms over his chest, an amused smile crossing his face as Ori began tapping at his temple with his fingers. “He was asked to work through the day, Thorin rang this morning.”

“And you’re helping me today!” Nori appeared out of nowhere to stand in the doorway. “There’s no escaping!”

Ori sighed loudly, falling back with a thump onto his mattress. The ceiling was ever so interesting all of a sudden.

“No more sulking, young lad.” Dori chuckled, tapping Ori’s leg gently. “Nori’s leaving in half hour, best get yourself ready. I’ll make you some peanut butter on toast and a cuppa.”

“Don’t forget to put scruffy clothes on.” Nori added. “I’ll be getting you to clean floors!”

Ori stuck his tongue out in response, only to earn a cheeky grin from Nori, before he began whistling on his way downstairs. Dori rolled his eyes at his younger brothers, making his way out. Ori watched as Dori left the room, picking up his discarded work uniform on the way, noticing how he tutted at the dust and ink blots down the sleeve of the t-shirt. He suddenly felt guilty about acting like a sulky teenager.

“I LOVE YOU!” He shouted, loud enough to reach Dori’s ears.

Ori heard Dori laughing merrily at the bottom of the stairs, and it made Ori smile. 

****************************************

“Give me that, you annoying little bastard!”

Dwalin had had it up to the roof with this childish nephew of Thorins. This morning he had woken up to the sound of the Ghosbusters booming through the apartment, followed by the crashing of cutlery on a tiled floor, then an onslaught of loud laughter that went on forever.

Now, Kili had resorted to nicking Dwalin’s phone, just so he could change the ringtone to that of the song off West Side Story. ‘I feel pretty’ was more likely to fit with Kili in Dwalin’s opinion. 

“There!” Kili beamed, tossing the phone at the larger man. “Now you can feel pretty, and witty and gay, every time someone calls you!”

“Little shit!” Dwalin grumbled, picking up the nearest thing (which was thankfully a pillow), and chucking it straight at Kili. He missed. “Get your ass out of here before I throw you out the window!”

“Someone’s not feeling pretty and witty today!” Kili laughed, flopping himself down onto the nearest sofa. “Hm. Probably not even gay. I mean, when’s the last time you got laid?”

That was it. Dwalin was like a ticking time bomb, strike a fuse inside him and he’d slowly lose it, just waiting to be set off. Kili was in for it, although he didn’t seem fazed by Dwalin’s obvious sign of anger by the look on his face, or the growl he released in frustration. 

Dwalin lunged at the young man, who yelped in surprise at the attack. Dwalin picked him up by the shoulders, turning him around on the spot, and wrapping an arm around his neck. 

“Want to say that again, you damn wanker?” Dwalin used his free hand to mess up Kili’s hair, keeping him firmly in place under the weight of his arm around his neck.

“What?” Kili clearly had amusement in his voice. “That you ain’t got laid in a hell of a long time?”

“Fucker!” Dwalin gritted through clenched teeth, brining Kili to the ground and sitting on his back. There was no way Kili was getting up off Dwalin’s bolder of a body.

“Get off you whale!” Kili struggled against the other man’s weight, his arms and legs flying everywhere, trying to at least punch Dwalin.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Came another voice from the doorway to the living room.

“FILI!” Kili shouted, arms flapping to the floor. “Get this loot off me!”

Fili smirked, rather amused at seeing his younger brother being sat on by Dwalin. “I think I’ll just let Dwalin sit on you for a bit longer.”

“HEY!” Kili pouted like a little child, which only made Fili chuckle and Dwalin flick him on the nose.

“Dwalin?” Fili turned his attention to their flatmate. “Could you please get off my brother? At least for now, we’re late for work.”

Dwalin rolled his eyes, giving Kili one last flick on the nose before standing. “Next time, I’ll most definitely throw you out the window.”

“You suck.” Was all Kili said, before he shot up off the floor and all but skipped towards his brother. “And you, can drive for not saving me sooner!”

Fili laughed softly, throwing Kili’s jacket at him which he picked up on the way. “Get in the car.”

“Yes sir.” Kili grinned.

The younger of the two surged forward, planting a quick kiss on Fili’s cheek, before running out the front door. Fili blushed furiously, trying desperately not to make eye contact with Dwalin, who looked at him in curiosity.

“I’ll uh… see you later.” Fili mumbled, walking to the door almost as fast as his brother.

Dwalin crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head. “Damn youngsters.”


	2. Erebor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself I wouldn't post the first chapter until I at least got halfway through the second... that promise just got thrown out the window!
> 
> Well, here's the first chapter! :) Ori meets a whole set of crazy characters...

This really wasn’t how Ori wanted to spend his day off. Sure, he was looking forward to spending more time with his brother Nori, since the both of them always worked and never had time to do anything besides sleep. But spending the day at Nori’s workplace, he didn’t exactly think of that as a day out.

It had almost been a year since he returned to London from studying in Wales for four years, where he got peace and quiet, and a good old degree in Art. Ever since coming home he’d done nothing but work, the Museum of Historical Art and Artefacts may as well be his home.

He hadn’t had time to settle in properly, he only knew where the local corner shop stood; the fish and chip shop across the street, and the nearest bus stop, his workplace didn’t even count. Nori had suggested the idea just to get Ori to meet his friends, hopefully to soon become his friends too, which was crazy, because Ori had a feeling if they were friends with Nori, they must be a mad bunch of people.

“So, excited to finally see where I work?” Nori asked, as he and Ori walked the not so crowded streets of London. “Better than your stuffy, old museum.”

Ori rolled his eyes. “Very funny. I actually like the stuffy, old museum. It has history.”

“So does the tattoo shop!” Nori snickered, chewing on a chocolate bar he’d brought with him.

“Still not as historic.” Ori challenged, with a cheeky grin on his face. “But I’m sure it’s almost as interesting.”

Nori chuckled, scrunching the chocolate bar wrapper up in his hand, before tossing it into the nearest bin. “Not as interesting as the people working there.”

“Should I be scared?” Ori asked, getting curious.

Nori laughed, thinking about his co-workers in turn. “Not exactly, Thorin can be a miserable sod if someone pisses him off, but he’s a good guy really. There’s Beorn, he’s behind the desk most of the time and likes to shit with people’s heads, he’s crazy in a good way. Then there’s Dwalin, the beast.”

“The… beast?” Ori’s eyes widened in surprise at the nickname. “That doesn’t sound friendly.”

Nori nodded, snorting as if remembering something. “Once he got so angry at Kili, one of Thorin’s nephews, that he kicked off and yelled at him, he was growling and waving his hands about like a wild animal! Kili thought it was hilarious, so he just started calling him the beast.”

Ori shuddered. “And Kili wasn’t a bit frightened?”

Nori laughed once again. “Kili could piss off Dwalin so much and not give a damn about the consequences.”

“Well,” Ori sighed, his thoughts on the tattoo workers pretty much downgraded. “Can’t wait to meet this beast.” He said sarcastically.

“Let’s hope you make a good first impression.” Nori teased, nudging Ori with his elbow.

They got to the end of the road where the car was parked, and turned the corner, walking onto a busier part of town. The street stretched a few blocks down, around ten house like buildings in a row on each side of the road, decorated by tall trees and beds of flowers sitting in patterned pots. It was a rather peculiar street, one that Ori felt like he’d stepped into a story.

“It’s not a very big street.” He told Nori, in a matter of fact.

“Yep,” Nori returned, leading the younger man down the pavement. “It’s nicknamed the short street, there’s only twenty buildings, fifteen shops, one bakery, two salons, one art gallery and our tattoo shop, of course.”

Ori grinned, looking around at the different kind of shops, one he saw was actually a dog salon, the windows covered in dog clothes made for dogs with a diva attitude, which made Ori laugh to himself. Another was a grocery store, one that had fresh, colourful vegetables lined outside the windows, sitting in neatly stacked boxes. A shop he passed was filled with old, but beautiful, antiques, ones that looked to have been passed on, ready for a new home.

They’d passed a homely looking bakery on the other side of the street, a big, orange sign reading ‘Bombur’s Bakery’, Ori realising that the bakery was that of Nori’s lover’s brother, Bofur, he made a note to go visit. This street was indeed interesting, and Ori had a feeling he was going to spend more time here than he’d first thought. First stop though, had to be the tattoo shop.

*****

Kili was frustrated. When Kili got frustrated he’d usually start fiddling with the bottom of his shirt, tap his feet quietly, and bite his lip constantly. Now was one of those times where he just couldn’t help it, because since Fili had gotten into the car to drive them to work, he hadn’t said a word. Not one word, not even a glance at Kili.

Usually when they’d drive to work it was completely different. They’d have a silly karaoke moment with the radio, start doing rather weird dance moves that led them into fits of laughter, or tell jokes that didn’t make sense whatsoever, but they’d always be funny anyway. This time it was different, and Kili didn’t like it one bit.

“Ok!” Kili let out, waving his hands in the air, not even gaining a flinch from his brother. “What’s wrong? Why are you giving me the silent treatment?”

Fili sighed, rather heavily, behind the wheel of the car. “You know why, Kili.” He answered, eyes never leaving the road.

Kili looked at Fili for a few seconds more, before letting his head bow down slowly, eyes shutting tight. “It’s because I kissed you isn’t it?”

Fili hummed, his grip tightening on the leather steering wheel. “You know me so well.”

“Oh, come on Fili!” Kili forced a laugh, angling his body to the side just to try and get his brother’s attention. “It was just a kiss on the cheek!”

Fili let out a laugh of his own, only his sounded more like a sputter, as if what Kili said was the most ridiculous thing in the entire universe. “Which you have been doing a hell of a lot lately!”

Kili watched Fili as he pulled into the parking space, a few metres from the bakery. He couldn’t believe what he’d said, let alone understand why he’d said it with such spite in his voice. Fili had practically spat the words at him, his expression turned to anger for a reason Kili didn’t have no knowledge about.

“You’re my brother; can’t I show you how much you mean to me?” Kili practically whispered, his words sounding so sincere that Fili immediately felt guilty for lashing out.

The younger of the two let his hands slip from the wheel, letting out a sigh he fell back into his seat not so gracefully. Kili had gone silent, trying to figure out what Fili was going to say next, or if he was even going to answer his question.

“You don’t have to do things like that, Kili.” Fili said, his voice more steady, yet he had gone quieter, deep in thought. “It’s because I’m your brother you should stop.”

Kili’s eyes widened in realisation, Fili’s odd choice of words starting to dawn on him. “This is about that night isn’t it?”

“Don’t.” Fili’s tone dropped, that single word meaning to sting.

“Why shouldn’t we talk about what happened, huh?” Kili almost bellowed, wanting nothing more than for his brother to listen. “Ever since that night you’ve been distant!”

“I wonder why!” Fili raised his voice, eyes glaring into Kili. “Ever since that night _you_ haven’t kept your hands off me! For fuck’s sake Kili! You’ve got to stop acting like I’m your fucking boyfriend!” Fili slammed his hand on the chair. “I’m your _brother_!”

“Then why the hell did you let me fuck you!?” Kili yelled, his words pouring from him without meaning. He bit his lip hard, too late to take back the sentence he’d let spill.

The abrupt silence that fell in the car was piercing; Fili could feel the heat rising in him, the words that passed his brother’s lips hitting him hard. He couldn’t sit here, he couldn’t deal with this kind of thing, and if he had the guts to admit to himself, he had no idea how to answer that question.

“I’m done.” Fili softly spoke, his hands shaking as he opened the car door.

“So that’s it then, hm?” Kili challenged, reaching for Fili’s coat to keep him in place. “You’re once again going to ignore the fact that we slept together?”

“Yes!” Fili yanked his arm away from his brother’s grip, daring him to make another move. “Like I said before, I’m going to pretend it never happened.”

With that said, Fili turned away from Kili who was looking at him with such a stricken face, that Fili felt a pang of guilt hit him. But it didn’t stop him from running away, to get out of a situation he didn’t want to be in, in the first place. He got out of the car swiftly, slamming the door behind him, not even glancing back to see if Kili was following.

Kili did follow, but not right away. The baker felt a sting of hurt in his chest at Fili’s repeated words, the same words he’d muttered the day after their drunken night, barely a sentence thrown at him as they’d woken up. Kili didn’t want his brother to walk away from him, to turn his back on him, to never smile at him again. It was killing him, and he didn’t think Fili understood just how much.

*****

Ori didn’t know what to expect when he set foot in the tattoo shop. His brother hadn’t given him any hints, only the name of the place written in bold writing above the large window, accompanied by a picture of a dark skinned dragon circling a mountain. The place was called Erebor Ink, something else that intrigued Ori, he’d never heard of that melodic word that sounded like a foreign language.

When Ori actually did step inside the studio close behind his brother, his eyes widened in awe at the wondrous surroundings, the one simple picture of a dragon outside not doing the place justice. What Ori noticed first was that the entire room stretched right to the back of the building, the dark, marble walls reaching up to the high ceiling that was decorated with wooden beams.

The tiled floor glistened against its dark background, like the starry night sky, every step Ori took the sparkle caught his eye. A tall alcove wound its way around the middle of the room, separating the desk and the comfy sofas near the front door, and the perfectly neat space where the tattoos were brought to life.

Ori also noticed the art that lined the walls, some behind the desk, and some above the waiting chairs opposite. Each piece of art was spread across some old looking paper, wrinkled at the sides and almost turning a shade of brown, stuck to a black frame with golden patterns, and the art was more beautiful than any drawings Ori had seen.

There was one of a tall, white tree, its leafless branches curling and winding around each other, as if reaching up into the sky. Another was of two unusual looking axes, they crisscrossed over one another, the silver blades looking worn and used. The one Ori liked most sat underneath the axes, it was a picture of a golden feather, its tip unleashing black ink that wound around it, until the ink turned into small butterflies, flowers and leaves at its end.

Ori didn’t think he’d fall in love with a tattoo shop; the ones he’d already seen were dull and colourless. But this one, this place had so much character and it told a story, one of dark caves, of magic and old treasures. It made Ori want to sit down and draw for himself, and write his own tales of adventures.

“Well hello there!”

Ori was cut short of his daydreaming, as a deep, growling tone of voice sounded through the closed shop. Ori looked over to the door that was near the desk, where it had just opened and a tall man came hurtling through it, a big grin spread across his face. He had more tattoos than even Nori had, winding around his arms and arriving at his neck, every single one was coloured in black and white, and occasionally a bit of brown here and there.

“Beorn!” Nori greeted, high fiving the energetic man. “Not setting up shop yet? You’re a lazy bugger.”

The spiky haired man snorted. “Someone’s got to make the tea!”

Nori laughed along with him, setting his bag behind the old fashioned front desk. Ori had to smile with them too, because the man, Beorn, had a very contagious laugh, it sounded deep and mysterious, yet sweet and cheerful. And before Nori could even turn around and introduce Ori to the receptionist, Beorn was on him like a moth to a flame.

“You must be the darling Ori!” Beorn’s smile never faltered as he took hold of Ori’s hand and sandwiched it between his two. “My, you look so much like Nori.”

Ori slightly blushed at the nickname, and chuckled at the man’s openness. “Thank you… I think.” He wasn’t sure whether looking like his brother was a good thing.

Beorn laughed again, patting Ori’s hand gently. “I like him Nori, he’s officially a part of my tribe.”

Nori could only roll his eyes, nudging the man on his shoulder to go and set up the desk for the morning, already slightly behind as it was. Nori sent his younger brother a wink, who was still baffled by Beorn’s straight forward personality, and the fact that he’d just made him a member of a tribe. Which kind of worried Ori.

“A tribe?” Ori asked Nori, as his brother led him over to the alcove. “That sounds worrying.”

Nori laughed wholeheartedly, sitting down by his work station. “Told you he was a bit nuts,” Nori said, setting up each and every needle tidily. “He has a thing for animals, believes in all that Pocahontas stuff, you know, spirits of the trees and things?”

“Oh,” Ori’s interest tweaked. “I think that’s a lovely thing to believe in.”

Nori grinned, knowing his brother would be interested in something so mesmerizing. “It is, Beorn’s got a love for bears in particular. Thinks they have their own minds, like their spirits are like humans.”

“Really?” Ori’s eyes widened, his gaze moving towards Beorn who was lighting up some aroma sticks. “That’s definitely fascinating.”

“Oh yeah,” Nori snickered, pushing a seat towards his brother to sit down. “He growls just as much as a bear too.”

As Nori said it, there came a loud growl from the front of the shop, Beorn was indeed growling just like a bear. His anger seemed to have been unleashed on the fragranced sticks, which were nowhere near letting out any scent. Ori and Nori shared a look as Beorn let out an even bigger growl, and the two brothers couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the man’s frustration at a bunch of smelly sticks.

Beorn gave up in the end, throwing the sticks impatiently onto the desk, and moving onto his next task, which was to go through the appointments for the day. The bear man flicked through the thick book with no care in the world, mumbling to himself as he took note in his head of all the customers. Nori made a joke then, telling Ori of how Beorn always tried to convince everyone that he had a good memory, when he’d forget to lock his own front door every day.

Ori laughed quietly at the thought, hoping not to disturb Beorn and his so called appointment checking. Nori didn’t mind much, for the older man was unpacking his things so loudly, it sounded like he was working on a building site. Once Nori had ripped off some paper towel, and set it onto the cushiony bench, he gave a loud sigh.

That’s when a tall, dark haired man walked through the door near the reception desk. The man was at least six foot in height, his frame long and muscular, his strong jaw line and deep blue eyes giving off a sense of leadership, and a man who would not be messed with. This man wasn’t covered in tattoos like his brother and Beorn, along one arm there was a sort of jewel, glistening against his skin, gold wisps of magic rising above it to create a swirl of many treasures. On his other, there was the dragon.

There, below his elbow, stood the grey mountain, reaching up into its highest peak. Circling it was the dragon that stood outside the shops window, its long tail sweeping around the man’s arm, claws sharp at its ends, and it’s enormous, snapping jaws breathing a red flame of fire. It had to be Thorin, from what he’d heard from Dori in fact, Thorin was a man that was like cold steel on the outside, yet he held warmth and a good heart on the inside.

Thorin spotted Nori plonking himself back onto his chair, a smirk tugging at the side of his lips as Nori started complaining about the lack of food in his stomach. Then the hard gaze of Thorin Oakenshield landed on Ori, and the younger man gulped, for the owners stare was expressionless and it made Ori feel nervous.

As Thorin walked towards them, Ori could see it in his steps that he was a born leader, someone brave and strong. He moved with such ease, and long strides, that Ori would have believed him to be of great importance. Nori soon noticed the other’s presence too, for he twisted around in his chair, and sent a big grin his way.

“Thorin!” He practically yelled, arms flying in the air. “The king has arrived!”

Thorin chuckled, a quiet rumble at the back of his throat. “You’re starting to sound like Beorn, Nori.” He said, his voice deep and alluring.

“Wouldn’t go that far.” Nori snorted, folding his arms across his chest and laying back. “Ori would vouch for me; I don’t sound like a snoring bear when I sleep.”

At the mention of his name, Ori could practically feel Thorin’s gaze land on him. So Ori looked up, meeting the man’s stare, and smiling as politely as he could. Ori wasn’t expecting it, but Thorin actually smiled back, not much of a smile, but his lips upturned slightly and his eyes softened.

“So you’re Ori?” He asked.

“Yes,” Ori practically vomited out the word. “Hi… u-um… nice to meet you.”

“And you.” Thorin smiled in amusement at Ori’s rather anxious stutters. “Nori has told me much about you. I hear you’re an artist?”

Ori blushed, it felt like he was under scrutiny for some strange reason, but he blamed that on the fact that Thorin was towering above him. “I… wouldn’t say artist. I just like to draw, mostly sketch.”

Nori laughed loudly, giving Ori a soft kick to his foot. “You’re a bloody artist! You should have seen the stuff he did for university, Thorin. He makes me bloody proud.”

Ori could feel his cheeks redden once more; he’d always hated it when his brothers talked about him, and practically showed him off to the world. Although Thorin found it quite comical by the chuckle he let out, for he knew exactly what it was like to be shown off. His father had been the same when he was alive, chucking Thorin’s art in people’s faces.

“Well then,” Thorin began, making his way over to his own station. “Since you’re here with your brother all day, why don’t I show you some stuff?”

Ori wondered what stuff he was referring to, and couldn’t help an excited grin plaster his face when Thorin opened one of the drawers near his work station, pulling out a few old, tattered books. Ori loved books, more than he loved television or the internet, it was just something he could look at and delve into a whole new world.

When Thorin placed the leather bound books on his lap, Ori’s smile lit up. Thorin couldn’t help the tug at the corner of his lips at the younger man’s expression, reminding him of his nephews when they were younger, opening their Christmas presents to find plastic swords that they didn’t put down for the whole year.

“Now you’ve done it,” Nori laughed, watching in amusement as Ori carefully opened up the first book. “He’s not going to leave that spot until he’s scanned every last page.”

Ori poked his tongue out at his brother, before diving straight back into the book. “These drawings are beautiful.” He said as he traced his fingers cautiously over the worn paper.

“My grandfather drew them, it’s his journal.” Thorin told him, as he got his own work station set up. “He was a tattoo artist himself, he started to draw before the second world war, that book never left his side.”

Ori’s eyes widened in admiration, he was even more interested in the years old book that sat on top of the others. “That’s amazing. These drawings are incredible.”

Thorin smiled faintly, glad that he could show someone his grandfather’s art, and see that same smile that he had when first looking at the colourful pieces. And that’s how the next hour went; Ori moved his chair closer to his brother and looked through the old books, reading through some of the fascinating notes scribbled in black ink underneath each picture.

Nori and Thorin had their first customers for the day, two butch men from nearby, wanting their arms covered in some strange patterns that made Ori’s head spin. Beorn was as friendly and bubbly as he had been when they’d first came through the door, greeting the customers with more enthusiasm than the rest of them could keep up with, and as for now he occupied himself by carving an animal out of a small block of wood, a hobby Ori learnt about as soon as he’d brought it out of his bag.

Ori was already enjoying the company of Nori’s friends, surprising himself to be so restful and serene in their presence. He’d expected to be out of his comfort zone, and not get along with them as much as Nori did, but Beorn and Thorin were completely different characters, and ones that had unique, loving personalities. Ori had even chatted to Thorin about the different art museums in London, his first impressions of the closed in man changed entirely.

It was reaching eleven o’clock when the rain started falling lightly from the sky, dark clouds hovering overhead, giving Thorin no choice than to put all the lights on in the shop, dim beams of yellow striking out from between the black marble walls. It made the shop look almost like it was underground, hidden away in a cave, if it wasn’t for the big window looking out onto the streets, Ori would have felt just like he was sitting in a modernised cave.

“Where the hell is he?” Thorin grunted, keeping his concentration on the man’s beefy arm. “He’s got that appointment at half past.”

Nori hummed, dipping the vibrating needle into a pot of green ink. “You know Dwalin, he’s probably held up again.”

“By what?” Thorin grumbled in annoyance, tracing his needle over a thin line, his stone cold features returning. “Stopped for some ice cream? Fell asleep in the parking lot?”

“Or he forgot to pick up Balin, to take him to work.” Nori simply stated. “Again.”

Ori could practically see the red steam coming off of Thorin, obviously this Dwalin guy Nori had told him about wasn’t exactly good with time. Once Thorin had finished off the lining of the man’s tattoo, he took a glance at the clock, it already read ten past eleven, and Dwalin’s station wouldn’t set itself up.

As if by magic, the front door to the shop opened, a loud gust of wind following the person inside. Ori looked up from the book he was currently peeking at, his eyes moving to watch the man by the front door, as he shut the door behind him with an angry rumble in his throat.

“Dwalin!” Thorin called, catching the man’s attention immediately. “Where the hell have you been? You’ve got an appointment at half eleven!”

Dwalin was exactly like Nori had described him, a beast. He was scary at first sight, his big, muscled arms sticking out through his black t-shirt, both covered in all sorts of tattoos, a bit of scruff on his chin, no hair on his head but instead there were tattoos of some foreign patterns. His gritted teeth and tensed arms didn’t help either, because it made Ori feel like running away.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dwalin rolled his eyes, clicking his knuckles against his palms. It had Ori flinching at every pop they made. “It’s only quarter past, keep your knickers on!”

It was Thorin’s turn to roll his eyes, Nori only chuckling quietly beside him. “Get your station ready.” Thorin told him, starting to colour in one of the men’s tattoos.

“Yes sir!” Dwalin saluted in good humour, and with no time to spare he made his way past the alcove.

Ori, without any hesitation shrunk back into his corner, glad that Dwalin’s attention was on Nori, who had started poking fun at him and his bad timing. “You need an alarm clock!” Nori sniggered, getting the man in his tattoo chair to join in on the teasing.

 Dwalin only answered with, “I’ve got Kili running around like a god damn buffoon every morning, that’s worse than a bloody alarm clock!”

Ori curiously watched Dwalin as he started yanking his tools from his drawer, mumbling about Thorin’s nephews, complaining about bad customers, and the fact that the weather man hadn’t even mentioned rain for today. It took Ori a while to realise, that Dwalin’s thick, drawl was in fact Scottish, the angrier he got the more he sounded like a highlander.

Nori caught Ori’s attention then, tilting his head towards Dwalin, and starting to make funny faces. Nori scrunched up his eyes, barred his teeth and wiggled around in his chair, which earned him a laugh from everyone in the room. Dwalin turned around, not entirely amused like the rest of them, but not taking it to heart either.

Nori smiled innocently at the bigger man, pretending like he’d been sitting there quietly the whole time. Ori laughed, raising the back of his hand to his lips, hiding the smile that he couldn’t control. Then, it was Dwalin who was looking at him.

The tattooist hadn’t noticed him straight away, for Ori was hidden near the corner of the room, Nori practically blocking every inch of him. But when he laughed, the sound echoed, catching Dwalin’s attention as he put down the last of the ink pots. The Scotsman looked over at him, grabbing Ori’s attention.

Ori stilled, his laugh dying down as Dwalin’s gaze landed on him, eyeing him up like a piece of meat on a plate. Ori felt shivers run down his spine, the bigger man had one of those stares where his eyes would penetrate you, and freeze you in your place. It was rather scary, and Ori could have sworn he yelped inaudibly when Dwalin made his way over to him.

“Well, bless my beard.” Dwalin rumbled, folding his arms over his chest. “This can’t be your little brother, can it?” he asked Nori, who was finishing off the customer’s tattoo.

“Course he is.” Nori smiled at Ori, who was slowly shrinking away in his seat from all the attention. 

“I’ll have to have proof for that.” Dwalin smirked, looking as though he was about to unleash an evil plan. “He’s way too lovely looking to be related to you!”

“Oi!” Nori threw the nearest thing, which was a pen, straight at Dwalin’s head. “Cheeky bastard.”

That earned a laugh from everyone in the room, even Ori who was somewhat relieved that Dwalin had a sense of humour. Of course Nori had missed, the pen just barely coming into contact with Dwalin’s ear, falling to the floor with a small clang.

“So, what’s your name then little one?” Dwalin asked Ori, who now pulled up a seat next to the younger man, seeming interested in the new member of the tattoo shop.

“O-Ori.” He answered, feeling a blush unwillingly creeping along his cheeks.

“Ori,” Dwalin repeated, rolling the name off his tongue in his thick accent. “Well, that’s a lovely name isn’t it.”

Ori blushed harder, not sure whether he should nod, or shrug, or just smile in return. Nori was soon on it though, noticing his brother’s shyness kicking in, which was obvious in the way he stuttered.

“You’re making him nervous Dwalin!” Nori chuckled, patting his brother on the back, before sticking a bandage across his customer’s tattoo. “You forget, you’re bloody scary, stop freaking him out.”

“He looks petrified.” Thorin added, also coming to an end with his customer’s tattoo. “Leave the poor bugger alone.”

Dwalin rolled his eyes, sending a cheeky smile at Ori. “Don’t worry lad, I’m not a beast as your brother’s probably told you already.”

Ori’s eyes widened, it was exactly what his brother had told him. “You can be!” Nori said, getting up to lead one of the butch men to the counter.

“Well, if you piss me off!” Dwalin shouted back at him, only earning a laugh from the other man. “I promise I won’t scare ye Ori.” Dwalin winked at the smaller man, before getting up.

Ori wasn’t expecting him to be so _nice_ , let alone wink at him. All Ori could do was smile a little back at Dwalin, which obviously made the man happy by the way he let out a deep, quiet chuckle. Ori followed Dwalin’s every move as he moved over to Thorin, trying to distract him from the tattoo he was inking, before punching Nori in the shoulder playfully once he returned from letting his customer go, and then Dwalin was sitting in his seat, sticking his hand into the glass cookie jar that sat on Thorin’s desk.

“Greedy bastard.” Thorin mumbled, as Dwalin stuck a huge cookie into his mouth, crumbs falling into his beard.

“Fuck you.” Dwalin mumbled, kicking Thorin in the knee.

Thorin kicked him back just as hard, making Dwalin drop his cookie on the floor. “Oh, you are so going to pay for that you asshole!”

“I bought the cookies, you dipshit.” Thorin grinned, getting up to lead his customer out.

“Bloody horrible ones too.” Dwalin added, throwing a piece of one at Nori. “Try it, tastes like shite.”

“It’s on the floor, you may eat food of the floor but I don’t!” Nori poked his tongue out jokingly, picking the piece of biscuit off the floor to throw back at Dwalin.

Ori enjoyed watching, he had to admit, and it made him laugh even if he tried to laugh as quietly as possible. Dwalin and Nori had gone into a full blown cookie throwing war, which he suspected Thorin wouldn’t be pleased about. In those split seconds, Ori was still a little scared of Dwalin, but then again, Dwalin didn’t seem like he was so scary after all.

Dwalin in that time had gone and won the cookie war, throwing a big piece of chocolate chip right at Nori’s eye, making him bend over and fall from the chair. Dwalin burst out laughing as Nori hit his head on the seat, sending him flying face first to the floor.

Ori couldn’t help himself either; he was soon overrun by the giggles, feeling guilty for laughing at his brother’s pain, yet Nori was laughing at himself anyway. The three were suddenly pulled into fits of hilarity, Nori clutching his stomach to try and stop, Dwalin having to put down the glass jar before it slipped through his fingers.

“That was bloody brilliant!” Dwalin let out between laughs.

“Piss off!” Nori yelled, letting out some more giggles.

“What the hell are you lot doing?” Beorn came into the room, looking around to see the three occupants laughing their heads off. “Oh Jesus, what’s Nori done now?”

“Fell off his chair.” Ori answered as the other two were finding it hard to breathe, his own giggles settling down. “Then hit his head.”

Beorn rolled his eyes, but grinned, not surprised that Nori had gone and made a fool of himself for the thousandth time. It took them at least five more minutes until they’d properly calmed down, Nori had plonked himself back into his chair, leaning back to let some air into his lungs.

“Well that was a good start to the morning.” Dwalin said, as he stood up to head to the counter, where his customer was waiting.

Nori snorted, rubbing at his head. Ori smiled brightly at his brother, who was moaning and groaning, obviously faking it. He could be a bit of a drama queen when he wanted to be, and now was a good example.

“Well,” Dwalin caught his attention, looking down at Ori with a grin. “That’s a lovely smile you have there.”

Ori had blushed earlier, but now his cheeks were practically on fire. “T-Thank you.” He mumbled, not used to being told such things.

“Watch it!” Nori voice came out of nowhere; suddenly he was standing by Dwalin. “Flirt with my brother and you’re dead.”

Dwalin snickered, elbowing Nori in the arm. “I was just being friendly.”

“Yeah,” Nori made a face, eyebrows raised. “Like hell. Hands off my baby brother.”

“Yes sir.” Dwalin mock saluted, turning to Ori to send him a wink. “Looks like we’re going to have to get to know each other from a distance, Ori.”

Ori smiled automatically, the big man’s light humour and teasing starting to make Ori feel much more comfortable around him. “I… can live with that.”

“You’re going to have to.” Nori told him, holding back a smile that Ori could see right through. “You’re off limits.”

And that was that for Nori, who punched Dwalin once again on the arm, and proceeded to go and get on Beorn’s nerves instead. That left Ori alone with Dwalin, and suddenly the young artist felt a tad anxious.

“Your brother always act like your bodyguard?” Dwalin joked, sending Ori a cheeky smile.

Ori laughed softly, playing with the edges of the book in his hands. “Yes,” he answered honestly. “Though… he’s… he’s not as bad as Dori.”

Dwalin grinned, he’d met Dori a few times before, and he could see exactly what Ori was talking about. Dori hadn’t stopped worrying about Ori since he’d left for Wales. “Well, I’m going to have to kidnap you away from them then, ey?”

Ori chuckled quietly, looking up at Dwalin with a smile. “Yes, please.”

Dwalin laughed wholeheartedly, reaching a hand out to ruffle the younger man’s hair gently. “You’re cute; I think I’m going to like having you around little one.”

Ori blushed for the umpteenth time that morning, avoiding any eye contact with Dwalin before his cheeks start to burn. Dwalin only tousled his hair once again, before making his way out into the other room, where he greeted his customer with his cheery Scottish drawl.

Ori put his hands to his cheeks then, trying his best to cool them down, they’d gone as hot as an oven. At first his impressions of Dwalin were that he could probably knock Ori out with one finger, it was safe to say Ori was kind of scared of him, the tattoos and beard weren’t exactly helping Ori to think otherwise.

But in those few minutes, those few seconds of Dwalin with his quick wit, his funny side, the kind words, and not to mention the open compliments he sent him, Ori was beginning to feel like he really shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Dwalin, Ori realised, was a good example of that, and Ori wanted to know just who Dwalin was on the inside.


	3. Bofur and Bombur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Bofur and Bombur!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Fili and Kili angst... sort of... kinda...

The first few hours spent in the tattoo shop wasn’t how Ori expected it to be. Least of all anticipate the crazy personalities Nori’s friends had, but in a good way, a good crazy where each one of them had their own special way of making the others laugh.

By now Ori had realised that Thorin was in fact quite moody when the other’s started to get on his wrong side, but when everyone acted like loons and brought some laughter to the shop, Thorin’s spirit was easily lifted. The same went for Dwalin, who had the face of an angry criminal, stomping his feet around like a large animal, but then again his personality was like a whacky teenager, always cracking jokes and using sarcasm in almost every sentence.

Ori was starting to warm to Beorn too, who really did have an interesting hobby. He’d been carving a hedgehog out of the piece of wood he’d brought to work with him, and even went as far as naming it; Sebastian was what he christened him. Although Beorn did have funny habits and a weird obsession with bears, he had a good heart, and made people feel at home.

Ori was starting to see why his brother loved working here so much, it wasn’t like working at all, it was like going over to a friend’s house and enjoying each other’s company. He wasn’t going to confess to Nori, but his older brother’s job was most undeniably better than Ori’s one, although it could use some more old books and art.

It was coming to one o’clock in the afternoon when Nori had declared a hunger strike, letting the whole world know he needed food in his belly before it shrunk. Dwalin and Thorin had customers to finish off, but Nori was way too famished to wait.

“I’ll bring you something back!” He told Thorin and Dwalin, grabbing his bag from behind the desk. “What about you Beorn?”

“Hm?” Beorn was in the middle of drinking tea, clearly soaked up in a magazine about spiritual bits and pieces. “Oh, no thanks Nori, I’ve got my own grub today.”

“What’s that?” Dwalin called from the other side of the room. “Rabbit food?”

Beorn let out a phony laugh, rolling his eyes at the Scotsman. “Its crackers, rabbits don’t eat that.”

“But parrots do.” Nori joined in, grinning innocently at Beorn.

The whole party in the shop laughed loudly, including the customers sitting in the chairs. Beorn, this time around, did join in and laughed sincerely, but not before giving Nori a present that involved sticking up his middle finger.

“Wanker.” Beorn said, lifting his magazine at eye level. “Get lost.”

“Aye captain.” Nori chuckled, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “Come on Ori, let’s go see Bombur.”

Ori got up from his position on the black sofa, putting down Thorin’s books gently on the small table beside it. The two chucked farewells at the others, before they made their way out of the tattoo shop into the lightly pouring rain, and not too far down the street they went, before crossing the road.

They stopped in front of the bakery Ori had noticed before, a friendly looking place, designed with orange patterns decorating the windows and door, cartoons of muffins and cupcakes dancing across the bottom. It wasn’t that much different inside either, all orange and green, brightening up the entire bakery.

Comfy looking, cushiony seats sat around small wooden tables were a few customers already sat, dotted around the place. Large, but beautiful looking plants separated them, giving the place a feeling of the outdoors. The walls were covered in pictures of all sorts, from a man eating a pretzel, to two children stuffing their faces with a load of colourful cupcakes.

There was a long, wooden counter winding around the back of the room, stacked with all kinds of delicious looking cakes and desserts, including the ones stacked on shelves behind the counter, from small cupcakes to enticing birthday cakes. Ori’s mouth watered at the look of the chocolate fudge cakes, oozing on all sides from so much creamy chocolate. He just couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Ori!” A bulky man stepped from behind the counter, his green apron stuck like glue around his round belly, his ginger hair clashing against it.

Ori grinned as soon as he heard the man’s voice, practically running into the baker’s arms. “Bombur!” Ori chuckled happily, giving the squidgy man a tight hug.

“Where’s my hug?” Nori teased beside them, leaning casually over the top of the counter. “I never get hugs.”

“That’s because you’re not adorable like this little one!” Bombur grinned, pulling back from the hug to hold Ori out in front of him, looking him over with a proud gleam in his eyes. “My, how you’ve grown! You’ve become as beautiful as your mother!”

Ori blushed a little, expecting nothing less than Bombur’s kind, and sweet heart. “Thank you, Bombur.” He said. “You’ve always had a way with words.”

Bombur chuckled, his belly wobbling with the movement. “Oh, you are a lovely young man. I have missed you terribly, I have needed someone to make fun of Bofur and Nori with.”

Ori laughed wholeheartedly, remembering the time when he was in his early teen years, and Nori and Bofur were the centre of Bombur’s jokes. “Nothing changes!” Nori snorted, playing with the stash of serviettes on the counter.

Bombur rolled his eyes, nudging Ori gently with his elbow. “Now then, what can I get you both?”

“More like, what you can get the army of pigs over the road.” Nori grinned cheekily, proud of his own modest joke.

“Not surprised,” Bombur chortled, rubbing his belly. “You lot take half of my stock each week!”

“It’s good stock!” Nori protested, defending his hunger and that of his friends. “And we shall continue to do so, until the last man falls.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Bombur mumbled, giving a laughing Ori a gentle tap on the shoulder. “Now then, let’s get Fili out here to help you with your food.”

Bombur guided Ori around the counter, pulling out a stool for him to sit on. Nori soon followed, eyeing up the row of appetizing looking baguettes, each filled with all sorts of salads and meat. At that moment his stomach rumbled, earning a laugh from his little brother.

“Looks like someone’s ready to eat.” Bombur chuckled lightly, opening the door to the back of the bakery. “Fili! Kili! Come out here for a moment.” He called.

Within seconds two men strolled through the door to the kitchen, one blonde and rather short, and the other dark haired and fairly tall, they looked very different from one another, but their stance was straight and confident. This told Ori that they were brothers, both practically imitating the each other.

“Ah,” Bombur flung his arms around the two. “Ori, this is Fili,” he said inclining his head toward the blonde. “And this is Kili.” He tilted his head over to the brunette.

 “Hello.” Fili greeted, while Kili sent him a cheerful grin.

“And this young man is Ori.” Bombur informed the brothers, as Ori sent them a small, shy wave. “Nori’s little brother.”

“Oh!” Kili smiled, realisation dawning on them. “Ori the artist! Nori and Dori have told us much about you.”

Ori looked over to Nori who was smiling ever so innocently. “I’m starting to think they’ve been telling the whole of London about me.”

“Nah,” Nori shrugged. “Only this part of town.”

“Can you blame them? They’re proud of their little brother.” Bombur beamed brightly, thumping Fili and Kili on the back. “Now, Fili would you be so kind and help Ori with the food, and Kili, can you go grab some bags to put them in.”

“Sure.” Fili waited for Ori to get off the stool, before taking him over to the other side of the counter.

“Come on then Nori, I’m not letting you stand here.” Kili joked, pulling Nori alongside him.

It didn’t take Ori long to pick what he wanted for dinner, he’d chosen a baguette of course, but the chocolate covered muffins were just calling out his name. He’d picked out the rest of the orders the tattooists wanted, and together Fili and Ori boxed them all up and stacked them to the side of the counter.

Kili and Nori came back with a couple of brown paper bags, cautiously planting the boxes inside after the food had been put in them. They’d all got the stuff ready in record time, stuffed and stacked neatly, although Nori did have butter fingers when it came to putting the boxes in the bags.

“Right!” Kili clapped his hands together. “All done. They’d better be pleased with this feast, or I’m going to poison the next batch.”

“I think they’ll be stuffing it down like it was their last.” Nori snorted, knowing Dwalin’s meal wouldn’t last him a minute. “So Bombur, how much will that be?”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” Bombur smiled from head to toe, flinging his arm around Ori. “No charge, celebrate Ori coming home.”

“Oh, Bombur you don’t have to do that.” Ori said to him, his kind generosity not surprising Ori in the slightest, he’d always had a good heart, and always put others before himself.

“Yes I do,” Bombur lifted the bags, and shoved them into Nori’s hands before he could even reach one hand into his pocket. “Now keep that wallet in your pocket, go enjoy your dinner.”

“Thanks Bombur!” Nori grinned gratefully, holding the bags of food tight against his chest, the handles having a habit of snapping in his grip.

Bombur only smiled enormously in retort, leading Ori out to the front of the bakery, chatting away like the bubbly man that he was. Fili joined them, leaving Kili to stand by the counter. Nori watched the young baker as his eyes followed his brother; he didn’t seem himself as he stood there, quiet and spaced out, suddenly taking a step back from the others.

He’d been like that when they went to the storage room to grab the bags, he was quiet, distant, as if thinking about a lot of things all at the same time. Kili did smile when Nori cracked a joke, and he spoke with as much enthusiasm as he natural does, but there was something off, Nori could tell.

“You ok, Kili?” Nori asked the younger man, making sure to speak in a hushed voice, careful not to startle him.

Kili didn’t even flinch, only blinked slowly before turning to Nori with a dazed expression. “Uh... yeah. Sorry, was just thinking.”

“About what exactly?” Nori’s eyebrows rose in question. “You don’t look very happy go lucky today?”

Kili seemed to force a small smile, his eyes never leaving Fili, who was standing outside under the porch with the other two, laughing about something shared between them. “Just stuff.” Kili answered, sighing deeply.

Nori followed Kili’s stare, which was virtually penetrating the back of Fili’s head. “Does this stuff involve Fili by any chance?”

“Hm.” Kili hummed quietly, tearing his gaze away from his brother to the tiled floor. “Just had a little fight, that’s all.”

“Mhm.” Nori nodded, knowing full well that it was more than a ‘little fight’, he’d never seen Kili appear so miserable when he looked at his brother. “Not going to come outside then?”

Kili sighed once more, stuffing his hands into his apron pockets. “No, no. You go.” He sent Nori an almost forced smile. “I’ve got some baking to do. I’ll see you later though, yeah?”

Nori bobbed his head up and down, trying his best to balance the heavy bags in his arms. “Yeah, alright. Cheer up, I’m sure whatever it is, you and Fili will sort it out.”

That’s all Nori said before he began his short walk to the front door, leaving Kili to ponder over his own thoughts, and wanting nothing more than to fall onto a nice, comfy bed and sleep. He didn’t feel like working today, not since that morning with Fili, it had struck him down hard, and not talking to Fili the entire day was going to be even worse.

“Where have you been?” Ori asked his brother as he stepped out, food tucked between his arms.

“Just talking to Kili.” Nori told him, sneaking a glance over at Fili. “He seemed a bit off today.”

Fili looked through the door then, his expression blank as he stared through the glass, probably trying to find the figure of his brother standing inside. He quickly turned his gaze away, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking at the side of the door with the tip of his shoes.

“He does, doesn’t he.” Bombur agreed, shrugging his shoulders. He never was one to intrude on other people’s business; to him Kili was just having a bad day.

“Well, we’d best get this feast back to the garbage disposals.” Nori chirped, nudging Ori forward by the leg with his foot. “Let’s be off!”

“See you later!” Bombur waved cheerfully at them, as they crossed the street in a hurry, the rain beginning to worsen.

Ori waved at them both, a bright smile etched across his face, his day made better by the presence of such an old, and loving friend. He got along with Fili and Kili too, although he didn’t get to chat much with them, they seemed to be lovely people, who Ori would love to get to know.

*****

During Nori and Ori’s absence, Thorin and Dwalin had taken their own break, stretching their legs out in front of them on the sofa in front of the tattoo shop. Beorn, being the master at making tea, had gone upstairs to put the kettle on. It felt like hours working on the tattoos they’d done that morning, so much detail and thin lines to be drawn.

Thorin had gotten up at six that morning, wanting to get an early start to the day, and get to the tattoo shop to get things in order. His parlour was like his other home, somewhere where he could let loose and dive into his work, it would always take his mind off of everything else going on in his life.

Today was one of those days where Thorin just wanted to sit back and relax, work on his customer’s personal tattoos he’d sketched across the week, and drink as much tea as humanly possible. Then, when closing time comes around, he would return home, ignore his nephews nagging, and watch stupid television until his eyes droop.

 The gentle tapping of the rain against the window helped his mood, he hated the weekends, they were always so busy and every person in London seemed to have nothing to do besides bustle around the streets. It was rather distracting really, mothers shouting at their children to stop running ahead, teenagers laughing at each other’s pointless, probably ridiculous jokes, and not to mention the popular man in a suite yelling down the phone.

That’s why Thorin loved the rain; it kept them all at bay, hardly anyone trudging down the street, just the few brave with their tiny umbrellas barely keeping their shoulders dry. And it kept them quiet, just how Thorin liked them.

“Looks like the rain isn’t going anywhere.” Dwalin cut across Thorin’s train of thoughts. “It’s going to start pissing it down.”

“Good, it’ll keep people indoors.” Thorin mumbled, resting his head on the back of the sofa.

Dwalin only chuckled softly, folding his arms across his puffed out chest. “That’s true. Noisy buggers.” He sighed, stretching his legs out even further. “Hey, you noticed something’s off with Fili and Kili lately?”

Thorin perked up at the mention of his nephews, ever since they’d been under his care they’d always be a constant worry. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” Dwalin knitted his eyebrows together as if in deep thought. “I mean Kili for instance, he’s gotten a lot more… how can I put this, touchy feely?”

“Touchy feely?” Thorin was trying so hard not to let a laugh out.

“Aye!” Dwalin snorted, who’d have known Thorin had a humorous side to him. “He’s gotten a lot closer to Fili, he kissed him on the cheek this morning.”

Thorin rolled his eyes, it wasn’t like Kili gave a monkeys about what he did. “Kili’s always acting strange, you know what he’s like. Besides, he’s practically glued to Fili’s side anyway.”

“Hm.” Dwalin hummed. “I supposed you’re right, I really think you should still take him to a hospital for a check up you know. Just encase.”

Thorin sniggered. “Yeah I know, you tell me this at least twice a month.”

“So I should. Your nephews a lunatic.” Dwalin declared. It was the honest truth, Kili was a bit of a hyperactive teenager.

“But a good one.” Thorin said with an amused smile. “Staying on the subject of lunatics, what about Nori’s brother, what you think of him?”

Dwalin looked over at Thorin in surprise. “Well he’s definitely not a lunatic!”

Thorin chuckled, hitting Dwalin on the arm. “I meant Nori, he’s the lunatic.” Dwalin grumbled. “Defending him already, hm?”

“He seems too sweet for anyone to want to harm him anyway.” Dwalin said honestly, Ori was very shy around him, he could tell he was a little afraid of him when he first walked towards him, but so was everyone else who didn’t know him.

“That’s true.” Thorin agreed. “I don’t even know how he’s even related to Nori and Dori.”

“Especially Dori.” Dwalin laughed, remembering the few times he’d met the older Ri brother. “He’s a little on the angry side when he wants to be.”

“Just a little.” Thorin grinned amusedly. “But Ori seems like a sweet kid.”

“He does.” Dwalin smiled, thinking back to when Ori had laughed and it had sounded like the most enchanting thing the Scotsman had ever heard. “He’s a sweetheart.”

Thorin smirked to himself. “You’re smitten, you big softie.”

Dwalin laughed, kicking Thorin with his boot. “I just think he’s a nice lad.”

“Mhmm.” Thorin chuckled; Dwalin never called anyone a sweetheart, so it wasn’t rocket science to work out that Ori had made an impression on the man. “You’re a crap liar.”

Dwalin’s only response was to kick him again, this time a little harder to get his point across. Thorin of course wasn’t one to lose a fight, so he kicked back, with just a little more force than Dwalin. This soon resulted in a ‘kick your friend with your shoe as hard as you can’ fight, their stubbornness getting the better of them.

Being so caught up in their small feud, they didn’t even notice Beorn return, three cups of tea balancing between his fingers carefully. Beorn wasn’t surprised to find them kicking each other like a pair of school children, he simply rolled his eyes and plonked the tea down onto the desk.

“You two planning on growing up anytime soon?” Beorn questioned, throwing a pen directly at Dwalin’s bald head.

“Nope!” Thorin stated, giving Dwalin one big kick for good measure.

“Children.” Beorn joked, but he knew all too well how he could be after a few too many coffees.

Dwalin was up in a split second, diving for his cup of tea, wanting nothing more than to taste the sweet caffeine and relax before his next customer. Thorin soon followed, as did Beorn, wrapping their hands around the warm cups and taking small sips of the drink.

“That’s what I call perfection.” Beorn muttered, slurping his tea as if he were parched.

The other two tattooists hummed in agreement, too busy drinking their own tea. They all went back to sit on the sofa, taking care not to tip their tea, or burn their lips as they cleverly sipped on their drinks as they sat down clumsily. It was just like a circus act.

As they dumped themselves onto the black couch, sighing contently, making the most of their hour break, the door to the front of the parlour opened. In swept a tall, grey haired, smiley man, soaking wet from head to toe. He noticed the three enjoying their tea on the sofa, the only greeting from them just a wave of the hand.

“Well, that was a very strenuous greeting.” He grinned, his thick Irish accent clearly sounding out. “Hello to you too.”

“Hi Bofur.” Dwalin greeted, he was no way in hell putting his cup of tea down.

“That’s better.” Bofur beamed, his smile not close to leaving his face. “Why you all being lazy on the sofa today then?” he asked, as he took a seat on the windowsill.

“Break time.” Thorin answered, setting his cup onto his lap. “Working at the comic book shop today?”

“Yeah,” Bofur sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. “Bifur’s getting on my nerves, keeps telling me to clean the Spiderman statue.”

They all laughed, Bifur loved that Spiderman statue like he loved food, and if one speck of dust landed on it then Bifur would nearly have a heart attack. His comics meant a lot to him, and his comic book shop was his home, somewhere where he could dive into different stories and be able to block out the real world.

“Nori not here?” Bofur asked then, looking around to make sure he wasn’t hiding behind something, not like he’d be surprised if he actually was.

“He’s gone to fetch some dinner.” Beorn told him. “He went to Bomburs, with his little brother.”

“Little brother?” Bofur’s face instantly grew into a huge grin. “Ori’s here?”

“Yeah,” Thorin answered this time. “He’s got the day off work so Nori brought him along.”

“Oh brilliant!” Bofur clapped his hands together, looking forward to seeing his other half’s little brother, who he hadn’t seen in such a long time. “I haven’t seen the lad since he got home. Poor boy works too hard.”

As if on cue, the door flew open, the gust of wind swinging it on its squeaking hinges. Ori came in first, his hair stuck to his head, looking like he’d just gone for a dip in the nearest river as he clung to his jacket shivering. Nori came straight behind, the bags of food tucked under his arm from the rain, although the rain had soaked him through. The pair looked like drowned rats.

“Caught in the downpour?” Bofur chuckled, the others joining in when Nori grunted in frustration at the droplets of water dripping down his face.

“Bofur!” Ori cried, realising that the Irishman had stood and came to meet him.

Bofur laughed wholeheartedly, bringing Ori into a tight hug. “Well now, it has been far too long since I saw you Ori.” He pulled back from the hug, looking Ori up and down. “You’ve grown up!”

Ori grinned as Bofur used a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe at Ori’s face. “I’m not eighteen anymore you know.”

“Oh aye,” Bofur smiled sweetly at the younger man, happy to see him. “But to us you’ll always be the little baby.”

Ori winced at the name, his brothers, Bofur and Bombur would never let that one go. “That’s right, our ickle baby.” Nori teased, pinching Ori’s cheek with his free hand.

Ori swatted his hand away, giving Nori a gentle thump on the arm. They both laughed it off and Bofur took the paper bags out of Nori’s grasp, after planting a quick kiss onto his cheek. Thorin got up at that point, helping Bofur to unpack the food and place it on the coffee table near the sofa.

Nori decided to thief Thorin’s spot on the sofa, so he leaped for the chance and sat his butt down, his wet trousers making a squidgy sound. Reaching over Nori yanked his food out of Bofur’s hands, who didn’t seem impressed, but Beorn soon took care of him and nudged him hard in the ribs with his elbow.

“Ow!” Nori whined, elbowing Beorn back.

“Don’t start!” Thorin warned, throwing Dwalin’s sandwich towards him. “Eat your food and shut up.”

They obeyed of course, knowing not to get on Thorin’s bad side, that wasn’t such a good idea. Dwalin rolled his eyes as Nori gave a sneaky kick to Beorn’s foot, just to show him he’d won, because Nori was such a sore loser. As the duelling duo calmed themselves and started stuffing their mouths with food instead, and Thorin and Bofur laid out the rest of the food, Ori still stood by the door, his hands clutching his arms as he carried on quivering from the cold.

Dwalin stood instantaneously, his urge to protect the young man kicking in. Ori looked absolutely freezing, and he was still drenched right through to his skin, his hair dripping as much as Noris. Dwalin approached him, and gently patted his shoulder.

“Come on Ori, take a seat.” He told him, leading him over by the arm. “I’ll go grab a towel to get your hair dry, and I’ll make you some tea to warm you up.”

Ori was surprised by the older man’s generosity, and smiled gratefully. “Thank you Mr Dwalin.”

“Look after your brother!” Dwalin kicked Nori’s shoe as hard as he could, making him choke on his ham sandwich. “He’s bloody frozen.” He said, before going upstairs.

Nori took a look over at Ori who was sitting in Dwalin’s seat, rubbing his hands together. “Sorry Ori!” He apologised sincerely. “I forgot we were even wet!”

“It’s fine,” Ori chuckled softly, he didn’t really expect Nori to even feel the cold, he’d always been one to like the rain. “I’m not too cold, just a bit wet.”

Nori grinned, picking up the chocolate muffin off the table and handing it over to Ori, who accepted it with a huge smile. He’d been looking forward to trying one of those since he laid eyes on it. Bofur passed his sandwich to him, smiling down at him with his famous cheeky grin, before he invaded Nori’s space and dumped himself on his lap.

Everyone laughed as Nori started whining, Bofur not bothered at all, in fact he snuggled up to Nori and practically smothered him. It wasn’t long before Dwalin returned, with a towel slung over one arm, while he held a hot cup of tea in his hand.

“Here you go Ori.” He handed Ori the cup of tea carefully, before putting the towel down beside him, and what Ori wasn’t expecting at all was Dwalin wrapping his own jacket around him. “That should keep you warm.”

“T-Thank you.” Ori stuttered, not meaning to, but so dumfounded by Dwalin’s kindness that he stumbled over his own words.

“So Ori,” Bofur interjected with a mouth full of salt and vinegar crisps. Dwalin made himself comfy on a chair, digging into his own food. “How was Wales? Nori was telling me all about your projects.”

“It was good thank you.” Ori answered, sipping on the delicious, sweet tea that Dwalin had perfected. “I enjoyed the course, it was better than I could have imagined.”

“What kind of things did you do? It was an art course right?” Thorin enquired, curiosity getting the better of him.

Ori nodded. “I did all kinds of art, but mostly concentrated on realism through sketching, and had a try at some visual art.” Sketching was by far his favourite thing to do; he’d always find something to sketch whether it be people or places.

 “That sounds amazing.” Thorin told him, scrunching up his wrappings from the sandwich. “Better than what I had to go through. Three years of drawing whatever the hell our lecturers told us to, didn’t get much of a say.”

“That’s awful.” Ori frowned. “How do they expect you to express yourselves through art that way?”

Thorin smiled, as did Dwalin. “Exactly.”

“Why don’t you bring your art in to show them, Ori?” Nori began, already given in to Bofur’s invasion of his space. “He could be a bloody brilliant tattoo artist.”

Ori blushed, not particularly agreeing with his brother. “I’m not that good.”

“No, you’re better!” Nori grinned, feeling proud of his little brother’s work, even if he wasn’t convinced.

“I wouldn’t mind having a look at your work Ori.” Dwalin smiled sincerely at him, sending him a wink. “I’m sure it’s brilliant.”

Ori smiled in return, bowing his head to hide the faint blush that still stained his cheeks. He automatically gripped the sides of Dwalin’s jacket, pulling it around himself tighter, feeling the warmth creep through his jumper. And that’s the way he stayed for quite some time.

The dinner break went by quicker than most wanted, but they’d all eaten their food like a group of starving men, and had another round of tea to go with their desserts. Bofur had left as soon as Nori’s customer came through the door, giving Ori another hug and making him promise to go visit the comic book shop nearby.

While the tattoo artists did their work, Ori sat near, telling Thorin and Dwalin of his adventures in Wales, and the different work that he did as a student. The day went by swiftly, nobody paying attention to the clock, but soon it had struck six and it was time for closing up the shop.

Thorin, Dwalin and Nori went about tidying their stations, each going over their work for the next day as they put things away. Ori got up to help Beorn, who had the job of tidying the desk area, and making sure there were no tea cups in sight. They’d once drank so much tea within the day, that there were no cups to be found, all stacked in a corner where they’d been dumped, Thorin soon made sure it would never happen again. Mugs were important.

It turned seven when the tattoo artists were finished, and Beorn and Ori had made their way around the shop, tidying up everything they could. Beorn said his farewells for the night, and ran out the door, coat covering his head from the lightly falling rain. Thorin switched off the lights at the back, leaving them to stand at the front of the shop to gather their coats and umbrellas.

While Thorin fiddled around with his jacket to find his car keys, and Dwalin and Nori discussed their customers for the next day, Ori took a glance out the window. He could see most of the shops had shut by now, some still open judging by the faint glow of lights from inside. Ori spotted a figure standing in the doorway to a florist, the alcove just about covering him from the pouring rain, his head raised to look into the dark, cloudy sky.

He seemed to be thinking to himself, lost, in his own thoughts. But he looked sad, Ori could tell by the way he hugged himself tight, his eyes full of tears waiting to be shed, even from across the road Ori could see it. The young artist felt sorry for him, for whatever had happened to him to make him feel that way.

“Who’s that?” Ori asked the others, pointing at the man in the doorway.

Nori and Dwalin stopped their conversation, and Thorin had finally found his keys, and they all turned to look at where Ori was pointing. Nori and Dwalin both gave out an angry grunt, while Thorin sighed, that cold, shady stare returning to his features.

“That’s Thranduil.” He told Ori, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ori looked at Thorin in confusion, he’d never heard of the name before, but by the looks they all gave him he guessed this Thranduil wasn’t well liked.

“He’s no friend of ours.” Dwalin grumbled, picking up his big umbrella from the floor.

“Why not?” Ori asked them curiously, the man didn’t look threatening, or even nasty in any way. “What’s he done?”

“We’ll tell you another time Ori.” Nori told him, slinging him arm around his younger brother’s shoulders to lead him to the door. “We’d better go.”

Ori nodded in understanding, watching as Thorin moved away from the window at last, picking up his own umbrella. They were soon standing outside in the pouring rain, Thorin and Nori with their umbrellas swaying in the wind, while Dwalin held out his massive one to cover himself and Ori.

“See you tomorrow Nori, and Ori, I’ll see you soon.” Thorin said to the brothers. “See you in two.” Thorin told Dwalin, who was driving home to their shared flat in his own car. He gave the men a wave before he left to go down the quiet street, head bowed and one hand stuck tight in his pocket.

“Let’s get going.” Nori started to walk the other way, followed by Ori and Dwalin.

Both their cars were near each others, so together they walked through the puddles, and over the slippery concrete, the umbrellas hardly doing their job to keep them dry. Ori had to dodge more puddles than he could count, his socks were slowly getting drenched, and it felt absolutely awful against his soggy shoes.

“Alright there Ori?” Dwalin held the umbrella slightly more over the smaller man, making sure he wasn’t getting too wet, at least his head was staying dry. “Typical rain aye, always happens when I go to my car!”

Ori chuckled softly. “Yes, but it’s very refreshing.”

“That it is.” Dwalin grinned down at Ori, only now realising how small he actually was compared to himself.

It didn’t take them long to reach their cars, they were parked only minutes from the tattoo parlour, it was their own faults for being later than usual really. Dwalin decided to be a complete gentleman, and walked Ori to the passenger’s side of Nori’s car, which surprised Ori once again by his kindness. Dwalin was turning out to be different to what Ori expected, but he had to admit, he couldn’t not like the man, he had been nothing but nice to Ori throughout the whole day.

Nori quickly threw himself inside the car, umbrella flying all over the place as he tried to snap it back into place, it took him some time but he got there. Inside he clicked the lock for his brother, pushing the door open with a shove. Dwalin leaned over the car, moving the umbrella to cover Ori as much as it could.

“See you soon then Ori.” Dwalin said, leaning his arm over the door.

Ori gave Dwalin a sweet smile, really hoping that he could see Dwalin and the others soon. “Yeah, I hope so.”

“Me too.” Dwalin winked at him, a glint in his eyes.

Ori’s lips turned up into a smile, as a blush crept along his cheeks, Dwalin’s eyes on him not helping with the situation whatsoever. He was saved however by Nori’s shout from the driver’s seat, complaining about the cold and how the rain was wetting his dashboard. Which it wasn’t.

“And stop flirting with my brother, you old perv!” Nori called form inside.

Dwalin laughed deeply as Ori rolled his eyes at his big brother, before forcing himself to get inside the car with him. He was starting to sound just like Dori.

“Bye Dwalin.” He looked up at the Scotsman who took a step back, hand on the door.

“Bye Ori.” He grinned happily, before shutting the door for him.

Dwalin ran to his own car which was a few meters away down the road, Ori watching him as he splashed through the puddles like they weren’t even there. Ori hoped he wouldn’t catch a cold.

“Right.” Nori stuck the keys in and started the car, before he drove off, the wheels skidding against the road. “I really need to retake my test.”

“Yeah.” Ori agreed. “I don’t even think your brake lights are working.”

“What?” Nori sighed, hitting the wheel with his hand as if that would help. “Great. Don’t tell Dori.”

Ori grinned, laughing as Nori started to imitate their older brother, voice included. It was quite good in fact. And that’s all he got the rest of the way was Nori pretending to be James Bond, watching out for any policemen. Sometimes Ori wondered if Nori was hit on the head as a child, but he wouldn’t have him any other way of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear it's going to kick off at some point.. for now I just want to introduce characters, build up slowly, and then start with some proper pairing madness! :D
> 
> There will be drama! I promise.


	4. Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori and Dwalin get closer, while Fili and Kili seem to be drifting apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a bit more Fili/Kili for the Durincest fans :) I know the first few chapters has been lacking them!
> 
> I promise to start with the Thorin/Thranduil pairing real soon! And apologies if this chapter seems a bit rushed.. the ending was driving me insane!

Balin wasn’t one for being late. He’d never liked people who were late, if they were only minutes late, or if they’d been stuck in traffic, or there was some kind of emergency then fair enough. But Balin didn’t like people who were late for not setting their alarm, or taking their time to eat their toast, or forgot to get their car keys that were hidden somewhere under the sofa or at the bottom of the laundry basket.

Balin also knew that one of those reasons was why his brother, Dwalin, was so late that morning. It wasn’t like Balin was late for his history class or anything, I mean he was sure the students could wait another hour for him to turn up, and cut their lecture by two hours. Balin sighed deeply, puffing out his cheeks.

Next time, he told himself, he’d tell Dwalin to turn up at half seven instead, and maybe then he’d turn up by eight. It was worth a try. Even his wife had left already to go to work, which was new, since she usually left half an hour after Balin. The old Scotsman rolled his eyes, his brother really needed to get his ass out of bed quicker, it wasn’t like Fili and Kili ever let him sleep much anyway.

Balin got out his phone from his suit pocket, taking a glance at the time, which read eight twenty six. He had to be there by eight forty five. Balin readjusted his bag on his shoulder, and clicked Dwalin’s name on his phone, seconds from calling his very unprepared brother. That was until he heard the screeches of car wheels, and saw the dark blue car pull up outside his home. Finally.

Balin trotted as fast as he could to the car, bag weighing down his shoulder, it was filled with all sorts of books that he had thrown in thinking he would be late. He reached the car and flung the door open, falling into the passenger’s seat with a big sigh.

“Before you say anything,” Dwalin began, and drove away from the house. “Kili overslept this morning, so I had to get him up!”

Balin gave Dwalin a quizzical look. “Isn’t that Fili’s job?”

“Aye,” Dwalin had thought the same thing. “But Fili disappeared this morning, I think he walked to the bakery.”

“Walked?” Balin’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “It’s half an hour away by walking isn’t it?”

Dwalin nodded, stopping the car at a red light. “Thorin text him, he wanted some fresh air apparently.”

Balin hummed in reply. “So you were late because you had to wake Kili? And why couldn’t Thorin do it?”

“He fell asleep on the sofa.” Dwalin told him, Thorin did seem knackered this morning. “He’s asked me to open up.”

Balin nodded in understanding, he never quite understood these youngsters, they were either late or too early. He had to admit, Dwalin looked worn-out himself, his shoulders were slouched and his eyes seemed to be staring ahead out onto the road in a glaze.

“Late night last night?” He asked him in curiosity.

“Hm?” Dwalin blinked. “Oh, no, it’s just because it’s Monday. I don’t do Mondays.”

Balin chuckled softly. “Aye, neither does everyone else in the world.”

Dwalin just nodded slowly, his brother’s words basically going in one ear and going straight out the other. If he was to tell Balin the true story of why he was tired, he’d be there for years, answering a string of questions to go along with it. It was all to do with Fili and Kili, ever since Saturday they hadn’t exactly been kind towards one another.

Fili had been in a foul mood the night before, coming home to ignore Thorin and Dwalin’s welcome, and slamming the door to his room. Kili had followed behind, going into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat, and that’s where it all lifted off. Fili had gone and cut himself, resulting in his running into the kitchen to grab a cloth, where Kili was burning his toast.

One moment Dwalin and Thorin are sitting down to watch TV, and the next they hear Fili and Kili arguing over how Fili doesn’t need Kili’s help, and to back off. It didn’t make sense to them, but before they knew it there was a loud bang, trailed by a clash of glass and china. Kili had slammed the door to one of the cupboards so hard that it fell off its hinges, crashing to the floor and destroying half the dishes and glasses they owned. It took them ages to clean it up, and even longer for Dwalin and Thorin to get to sleep with Kili blasting angry music in his room. He wouldn’t unlock the door for Dwalin to give him a piece of his mind, surprisingly it took Fili’s voice through the door to get him to doze off.

“So,” Balin disrupted his younger brother’s thoughts. “I uh… spoke to mum and dad last night.”

Dwalin’s only response was to sigh loudly, knowing exactly where this was going. “I don’t give a shit.”

“Dwalin!” Balin grunted, rubbing the bridge of his nose between this thumb and finger. “You’ve got to stop this, mum and dad are getting old, dad’s not getting any better! At least talk to them!”

“I’ll talk to them when they apologise to me.” Dwalin simply stated.

“You know they want to…” Balin began.

Dwalin laughed bitterly. “If they wanted to apologise they would have done so years ago! I won’t call them my parents after they slatted me for my career choice, told me I look ridiculous with tattoos and practically told me I’m a mistake for being gay!”

“Well…” Balin exhaled deeply. “They didn’t mean to, it would take time for them to get used to it. You know how they were raised.”

“Aye,” Dwalin grumbled. “They were raised to be a pair of posh gits, who find anyone different from them to be monsters and sinners.”

“Oh for goodness sake, Dwalin!” Balin almost yelled, getting impatient with his brother.

“Just don’t.” Dwalin warned, getting fed up already of talking about his parents. “Stop talking about them, I don’t care. I honestly don’t.”

“But Dwalin…”

“Balin, just don’t.” Dwalin gripped the steering wheel in frustration. “We’re here.”

Balin looked out of the side window, and indeed they’d arrived at the University. Dwalin was lucky they’d got there, before Balin could go on any further, because he had a lot to say. Their parents weren’t perfect, Balin would admit that, but for years now Dwalin hadn’t even said one word to them, not even on special occasions like birthdays.

“I’ll see you soon?” He asked Dwalin, pushing the door open.

“Depends.” Dwalin mumbled. “Are you going to talk about our so called parents again?”

Balin’s only response was to roll his eyes, if he’d given an answer it would have just caused Dwalin to be even angrier. So Balin just picked up his bag, and wiggled himself out of the car, balancing with his hands on the door.

“See you later.” Dwalin called to him, turning the radio on to listen to something other than silence.

“Yes, hopefully.” Balin sighed. “Behave yourself.”

Dwalin almost smiled at that. “I always do.”

Balin chortled happily, slamming the door to the car shut, and waiting for Dwalin to pull out of the parking lot. He sent him a wave as he drove off, wondering if his little brother was ever going to be happy. Dwalin always acted like he was alright, laughing and joking with his friends, and telling him stories about their nights out and times in the tattoo shop.

But Balin knew Dwalin well, and he knew his brother wasn’t a hundred percent happy. Balin just wished he could find that one thing that could make Dwalin feel happier, and change his perspective of things, and he really needed to see how much his family loved him.

Balin sighed loudly, puffing out his cheeks. Fiddling with his bag, he turned towards the posh building of the London University, and skipped up the steps with a whistle. It didn’t take him long to find Oin and Gloin chatting by the front doors, looking as if they were quarrelling over the book in Gloin’s hand.

Oin was a lecturer of medicine, being a retired doctor he decided to pass on his knowledge, and teach students his ways. Gloin had been a banker, he had been a manager of at least three banks since he was twenty five, so lecturing about business was his perfect idea for a job.

“Morning gentlemen.” Balin greeted with a smile.

Oin and Gloin noticed his presence and grinned, their resemblance was uncanny. “Morning Balin.”

“Dwalin bring you in this morning?” Oin asked. “You’re late.”

“Aye,” Balin snorted, folding his arms across his chest. “He’s not one for being on time is he.”

“No,” Gloin chuckled, he stuffed his book titled ‘Bankers Guide’ into his bag and tossed it over his shoulder. “Did you tell him about the call off your parents?”

Balin nodded with a slight hum, enough said really. “Don’t ask.”

“Don’t worry about it Balin.” Oin told him, patting him on the back as a friendly gesture, he felt bad for the old man, and he didn’t need to worry about his brother so much. “He’ll come around, something will trigger him, once he realises how much family is important.”

“Aye, I suppose.” Balin shrugged. “Let’s get going then, don’t want to be too late now do we.”

Oin and Gloin nodded in agreement, it was quarter to and the clock was ticking fast. It was the start to a busy day for all of them, students handing in assignments and staying behind for extra help, which only meant no time for breaks. They were already looking forward to four o’clock.

*****

Kili was feeling utterly miserable, and he was cheesed off beyond belief. As of now he was sitting on the sofa in Thorin’s tattoo parlour, staring off into space, his thoughts running around in his head. He was supposed to be in work by now, but Fili had left early that morning, leaving him to sleep in late and Dwalin to throw pillows at his head to wake him up.

He didn’t feel like going in just yet, so Thorin being a good uncle saw how distressed he was, and rang up Bombur to tell him he’d be a little late. He’d even given Kili a lift and told him to stay there for a bit, telling him to think things over while him and Dwalin sorted out the appointments for the day. Thorin knew something was going on between Fili and Kili, but he only thought it was something small, something they’d make up over straight away. He’d said they’d be talking by the end of the day, but Kili wasn’t quite so sure about that.

The night before, when Kili had wanted some toast after coming home from work, Fili had run in minutes later with a cut hand, some result of dropping scissors and trying to catch them. Kili had instantaneously started to worry, and unconsciously he’d darted towards Fili, a wet cloth in his hand to try and ease the pain.

He’d only grabbed Fili by the wrist, a gentle gesture just to assist, but Fili had flinched and yanked his hand away. Kili wasn’t expecting it, and Fili cowered away from him as if Kili was going to harm him.

_“Don’t touch me.”_

_“Fili? I was only trying to…”_

_“Well don’t. I can do this by myself.”_

_“I do care about you Fili! So I’m going to help you without a second thought!”_

_“Try not to! Just don’t touch me!”_

_“For god sake Fili!”_

_“I don’t need your help!”_

It had turned into a full blown argument, one that Kili just didn’t understand. Fili was acting as though he was afraid of Kili, he didn’t want him near him, to touch him, even if he looked at him he would look away and pretend he wasn’t there.

It was making Kili feel like his heart was breaking, bit by bit it was breaking off into little pieces, and he couldn’t handle it. Fili was everything to him, he always had been, he was his little brother that he wanted to look after and spend time with and tell jokes with. But all that had changed, it had changed that night they’d slept together.

It happened on a night out with everyone, one that led to Fili and Kili drinking a bit too much, and getting them more drunk than the rest of the crew. They’d left early, ready to go home and put their feet up. But when they got home, they’d done something they couldn’t control.

Dwalin and Thorin were staying over Beorns, so Fili and Kili had decided to turn the music up really loud, dancing around the apartment like a bunch of drunken idiots. That’s when it had happened, one moment Fili was dancing in the middle of the living room, and the next Kili was on him, his lips crashing against his brothers, hands roaming his body.

Fili hadn’t protested, in fact he was kissing him back just as hungrily. In his drunken state Kili had picked Fili up in his arms, his smaller brother wrapping his legs around his waist, and he’d carried him to the bedroom. They’d fallen back on the bed, Kili crushing Fili underneath him, grinding down into him as he moaned his brother’s name.

_“Fuck me.” Fili whispered in Kili’s ear, his hands tangling in his black curls. “Kili…”_

_Kili moaned, cold hands sneaking under Fili’s shirt and roaming over his chest, brushing past his nipples. Fili groaned loudly, bucking into the touch, his head tilted back against the pillow._

_Kili had never seen anything so perfect, so beautiful. Fili reacting to his touches, moaning his name, begging to be taken in his bed. Kili’s hand crawled down, undoing Fili’s button to his jeans, and opening the zipper he bit down on his brother’s bared neck._

Kili sighed, bending forward to lean his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair in frustration.  No matter how much he tried telling himself he’d been completely wasted that night, having no idea what he was doing, there was that voice that told him he knew exactly what he was doing. He remembered almost everything.

Kili wanted to kiss his brother, he wanted to run his hands over his body, he wanted to bite and lick and feel every muscle under his fingertips. And he still did. Ever since it happened, Kili couldn’t look at Fili in the same way, it was different when he touched him, and hugged him, and his smile sent shivers down Kili’s spine.

“Fuck.” Kili bit down on his bottom lip, this thinking thing really wasn’t doing him any good.

“What’s wrong?” Thorin walked over with books in his arms, plonking them down on Beorn’s desk. “Are you stressing out over Fili again?”

Kili stiffened, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Kind of, I just don’t know how to make him talk to me.”

“Well, if you’d tell me what happened I could actually help.” Thorin told him. “I’m your uncle, I’m here for you and for Fili.”

Kili smiled a little, his uncle always had that icy stare that some people found quite unapproachable, but Kili knew him better than most, and he’d always make sure they knew just how much he cared for his nephews.

“Thanks uncle.” Kili sighed, getting up off the sofa. “It’s just… it’s nothing really, we’ll sort things out.” He felt guilty for lying to Thorin, but he just couldn’t tell him the truth.

Thorin only hummed. “You’d better get going, Bombur will be wondering what happened to his baker.”

Kili nodded, grabbing his bag from the side of the sofa, he made his way over to the door. “Tell the others I’ll see them later, thanks Thorin.”

“Mhm.” Thorin sent him a small wave, watching in worry as his older nephew crossed the road. “Kids.” He mumbled to thin air.

It wasn’t long before Dwalin came back from the car, having forgotten his things in a hurry that morning, just before Thorin could make his way upstairs and see what the hell Beorn was doing with the kettle, and why Nori was singing at the top of his voice. The Scotsman wasn’t looking too happy that morning, although he didn’t most mornings, but today he just looked grumpy and a bit peeved.

“Are you having a bad morning or something?” Thorin asked.

“Balin tried to speak of our parents again.” Dwalin simply stated, before making his way over to his station.

“Oh.” Thorin knew not to take that any further. “Hey Dwalin, what say you to a night out tonight?”

Dwalin stopped what he was doing, that sounded like the best idea he’d heard in a long time. “Hell yeah.”

*****  
Ori was bored out of his mind. He didn’t think this job could be so dejecting, it seemed like a good idea at the time to work in a museum full of art, somewhere he’d feel comfortable and get to be a part of the whole historic element of it. But no, he was stuck here stacking books, in the quietest part of the museum, the art library.

Ori was hopeful that when he’d got to work that morning that he’d be asked to go to the Sketch department, to help out with rearranging the place’s most delicate, old sketches from local artists, and be able to look at them one by one. He loved sketching, there was something so beautiful, and natural about them, it brought out life on a piece of plain paper.

He’d be more than happy to sit behind a wooden desk and draw all through the day, just letting himself get carried away with ideas and bringing his imagination alive. Although he did sketch in his spare time at home now and then, but Ori always kept his drawings hidden, tucked away in his leather-bound sketchbook.

It wasn’t Ori being shy or anything, or the fact that he got nervous when people took a look at his art, it was just that Ori didn’t think he had the hand of a professional artist, a talent to be shown to the world. Ori considered showing his sketchbook to his brother’s once, but had chickened out, thinking that if they had a glimpse of it they might just think his sketches weren’t good enough. Nori was a tattooist after all; he knew perfection in art when he saw it.

Ori sighed quietly whilst making sure not to be too loud, the woman, Mrs. Proudfoot, who ran the library was a right old grumpy git. She’d even glared at Ori when he walked in that morning, she probably didn’t know how to smile.

Ori let out a giggle, a picture of Mrs. Proudfoot trying to smile stuck in his head. Now that would be entertainment. The young artist took hold of a book and put it in its correct position on the shelf, right next to a line of books about the art of pottery. Something Ori definitely didn’t want to get into.

It only took him another few minutes before half of the books he was meant to stack were almost put back, the rest piled up and ready to be shoved onto the shelf in the neighbouring isle. He wondered to himself what Mrs. Proudfoot would make him do after that, maybe dust the top of the book shelves? Polish the reading desks? Or maybe tell the visitors to not bother going into the library, because all the fun stuff was on the other side of the building.

Ori snorted loudly, stuffing an old green book between two thick ones. His degree was most definitely not for use as a bloody librarian, he didn’t exactly major in total dullness. The only excitement he got that afternoon was when his phone vibrated at the bottom of his bag.

Ori was just in the middle of putting the last few books into place, when his phone unexpectedly started making noises. It only lasted for mere seconds, meaning someone was actually texting him, which was rare because he didn’t know anyone around here just yet. The only contacts he had were his brothers, and a few friends back in Wales.

The sketcher plunged his hand into his bag, to pull out his phone from the bottom. It read ‘number unknown’, and reading the actual number didn’t give Ori any clues as to who it was either. It wasn’t until he opened the message and read it that he knew the mystery man.

 It read: _‘Afternoon Ori, how’s your day going? I hope you don’t mind me texting ye, I kind of stole your brother’s phone and got your number ;) Dwalin x’_

Ori’s jaw dropped as he re-read the text message over and over again, as if trying to figure out why Dwalin had even text him in the first place. Let alone nicking his brother’s phone just to get his number, although it was a smart move since Nori wouldn’t give Ori’s number out even to a friend of the family.

Ori didn’t expect Dwalin to be the one to talk to him, sure he’d become friends with the older man, and he’d definitely gotten to like him quite a bit, but it made him blush to even think that a brawny tattooist like Dwalin would want to even send a text to him. Ori wasn’t exactly the type of guy to get anyone’s attention, least of all someone so entirely opposite to himself.

It took Ori a few minutes to wrap his mind around Dwalin’s words, and maybe a few more just to think of an answer. He didn’t know why, but it made him a little nervous to be talking to Dwalin, it felt kind of intimate. Ori was even blushing like a school girl when he noticed the kiss at the end of the text.

But Ori thought to himself that Dwalin was a lovely man, and he really did make Ori feel at home every time he was at the tattoo shop, it wouldn’t hurt to become good friends with him. And besides, Dwalin made such incredible cups of tea.

_‘Hello Mr. Dwalin. It’s kind of boring if I’m honest, how about yours? I hope Nori didn’t catch you with it! His phone is practically glued to his side! Be careful! Ori x’_

It took him a few seconds more to even decide if he should add the kiss at the end, but he sent it before he could change his mind. Ori sat down on a wooden chair near the shelf of books, phone still in his hand, and waited. He didn’t know why he waited for another text, but it felt nice, to be talking to someone, to have someone to chat to that weren’t his brothers for a change. It didn’t take long for Dwalin to text back.

_‘Nah, your brother may be a sneaky bastard, but I’m just as good! Well my day is most definitely a good one now that I’m talking to you_ ___x’_

Ori blushed, his cheeks turning as red as a tomato. ‘ _Mine too_ _:)_ _it’s nice to have someone to talk to x’._ Ori breathed in deeply, forcing himself to send it.

‘ _Well you know I’m always here to talk Ori, whenever you like! I’m probably not as boring as your boring old brothers :D x’_

Ori chuckled softly. ‘ _You can’t get worse than them, Dori once talked about how sheep keep warm in the winter for at least two hours… it was horrendous! x’_

‘ _He sounds like a blast! Remind me never to have a conversation with him! :P thinking about it, maybe I should introduce him to my brother.. they’d get along bloody marvellously! x’_

Ori smiled brightly, starting to text Dwalin back. He had no idea Dwalin even had a brother, so he asked about him, and it all went off from there. They texted for what felt like hours, talking about their brothers and their fussing, how Nori had once stolen a chocolate bar for him when he was a kid, and how Balin went crazy over Dwalin spilling coffee on his white carpet as a kid.

It suddenly became easier to just let it all out with Dwalin, he felt secure and at ease chatting to him, as if he’d known him all his life. Ori thought back to the first day he’d met Dwalin, how he’d been afraid of him and thought the muscular arms and dozens of tattoos made him look daunting, but he was utterly wrong about the Scotsman.

_‘I was meant to ask you Ori, are you free tonight? The lot of us are going out for some drinks, would you like to join us? would be nice to see ye x’_

Ori almost grinned to himself, holding it back just a little and not admitting that seeing Dwalin later made him delighted. No, he wouldn’t admit that to anyone.

_‘I’d love to join you_ _J_ _x’_

_‘Good! Now I have something to really look forward to_ _J_ _x’_

*****

Kili was still having the worst day of his life. If sitting in Thorin’s parlour in the morning was bad enough, merely thinking about what happened between Fili and himself, then actually being in Fili’s presence was gradually pushing him over the edge. He’d been fine the last few days, but it wasn’t getting any better, his foolish feelings for his brother were impulsively growing.

Kili was currently baking, well trying, to bake a chocolate sponge cake, one of Bombur’s most popular sellers. It usually took Kili around an hour and a half to bake it, and stack it upright for Fili to decorate. But now he was just losing the determination to even throw in some eggs, Fili’s moving figure across the room catching his attention.

His brother was in the middle of decorating a large, icing covered sponge cake, his hand movements graceful as he moved the icing bag across the top. Kili had always loved watching his brother decorate cakes, he never made a mistake, his eyes were wide in concentration and he’d have a habit of biting his bottom lip without even noticing he was doing it. Kili couldn’t help but smile.

Ever since they were kids they’d both love to bake, especially together. When they were in primary school it all began with small cupcakes, Kili being the best at preparing the sponge, and Fili making them look like the prettiest yet most delicious cakes you could possibly try. They were an unstoppable pair, and absolutely inseparable.

Kili watched as Fili drew purple patterns onto the side of the cake. He wished Fili would let him watch closer, like he would before, to comment on how beautiful Fili’s work was and lick the icing off the spoon afterwards. It was how it used to be in the bakery. Kili sighed faintly, his eyes never leaving the light flick of Fili’s wrist, as he cautiously made a curly pattern.

“How long are you planning on doing that?”

Kili snapped out of his daydream, the voice of his younger brother catching his attention. “Huh?” He mumbled, Fili was looking straight at him. “Doing what?”

Fili rolled his eyes, it was almost like being back to normal. “Staring at me. I can practically feel you putting a hole in my head.”

Kili instantly put his head down; grabbing the whisk next to the bowl he began mixing the ingredients he’d prepared. He heard Fili pick up a few things across from him, obviously going back to work as if nothing had happened, for the billionth time.

Kili whisked the mix roughly, putting all the strength, and a lot of frustration, into stirring it until it was smooth. He had to take it out on something, and the cake mix was just there, so he made sure to whack the bottom of the bowl too. Kili was making such a noise that it was hard to go unnoticed, the battering against the glass bowl echoed immensely.

Fili raised his head, putting the decorating on hold as he gazed over at his brother; he was beating the poor bowl to death. Fili rolled his eyes, trust him to have a hissy fit and take it out on a bowl. Fili knew why he was fairly angry and almost certainly a little frustrated, he had been for days now, Fili had noticed the change in his older brother before even he did.

He only had himself to blame, Fili knew it was his fault. He didn’t mean to act so selfish and ridiculously childish in his own opinion, but he just didn’t know how to behave around his brother anymore. It would feel awkward sometimes, when Kili would grab hold of his hand right in front of people, give him hugs and run his hand along the bottom of his back, or that kiss on the cheek when Dwalin was sitting right in front of them.

Fili knew he could never forget the night he’d slept with his brother. But Kili was conducting himself a lot differently towards it than he was, he seemed to not want to forget it purposely, reminding Fili about it every time he touched him, hugged him, run a hand down his arm, slept beside him on the sofa, spread himself across Fili’s lap as they watched films in the living room.

Everything reminded him of how it felt to have Kili take off his clothes, dig his fingers into his back, leave bite marks along his neck, run his tongue along the curve of his spine, he never forgot the feeling no matter how out of his mind he was that night. It drove Fili insane, it pushed him to the edge every time he thought of Kili sliding into him, slowly and carefully, whispering his name as he buried himself inside him.

Fili inhaled deeply, balling his hands into fists, trying with every fibre in his body to stop the foolish thoughts he was having of his brother. He shouldn’t be thinking about such deeds, especially not about Kili, not about that night that should never have happened, it was wrong; it was wholly, insanely wrong.

“You know what.” Kili was the one to break the silence between them, he slammed the bowl down on the counter, his eyes inflamed with anger. “I’ve had enough of this! Enough of you being a dick!”

Fili gawked at him, stunned by Kili’s sudden outburst. “What?”

“You!” Kili bellowed. “You’ve been nothing but a selfish, inconsiderate, intolerable, ignorant asshole!”

“What the hell Kili!” Fili yelled back, his brother had never been so bold and so vicious with his words, it stung just a little. “How the fuck am I being like that?”

“You just are!” Kili threw down the whisk, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve been ignoring me, pushing me away, pretending like I don’t exist, and you don’t give a fuck that it’s killing me inside!”

Fili’s eyes widened. “Kili, I-”

“Do you realise how fucked up I feel?” Kili’s voice had turned to a mere whisper, scaring Fili even more than his strident tone. “You may think that what happened when we were drunk is only ever on your mind, but no, it’s not Fili, it’s constantly on mine too.”

Fili felt a sliver of shame come over him. He had been selfish, he was thinking all the time about his feelings towards that night that he didn’t stop to think how it had affected his brother, it was probably eating away at him as much as it was Fili, he was most likely acting the way he was because he was trying to be normal again.

“You know what I’m like Fili, I always hide my true feelings, and I act like an idiot and pretend like everything’s all sunshine and rainbows!”

At that Fili felt the side of his lips being tugged; he bowed his head to make sure Kili didn’t see the sly smile that he couldn’t help. Fili was the one who once told Kili that he was made of sunshine and rainbows.

“I just…” Kili stuttered, his words being cut by his uneven breathing. Fili looked up, meeting Kili eye to eye for the first time in so long. “I… that night has made me think about… I don’t know… I guess I should…”

Kili failed to speak, his lips were trembling and his eyes were beginning to water, he wanted to tell Fili really badly. Kili wanted to tell Fili that he loved him, more than a brother should love a brother. But something was holding him back, something was telling him not to say another word.

“What’s it made you think about?” Fili asked, his voice softening at seeing his brother shiver.

Kili’s head lowered. “Nothing.”

“Kili?”

The older man sighed, picking up the whisk off the worktop. “It’s nothing.”

Fili opened his mouth to question his brother more, determined to find out what secret Kili was keeping, but he was disrupted by the doors to the kitchen swinging open. In strolled Bombur, his usual happy go lucky appearance changed to worry and confusion.

“What’s happened?” He asked them, noticing Kili’s head hung low and Fili’s wide-eyed expression. “Everything alright? One of the customers heard you shouting?”

Fili immediately jumped in, not wanting Bombur to be concerned, or let him know of the troubles he and his brother faced. “It’s nothing Bombur, sorry about that. Kili just mixed the wrong ingredient and started shouting at the bowl.” He added a small laugh to make it seem real.

“Oh!” Bombur’s dazzling smile reached his ears, his belly rumbling as he chortled. “That’s alright then! As long as you’re both alright!”

Kili didn’t say a word, only pretending to clean up his work station. Fili returned Bombur’s smile, the red cheeked baker clapped Kili on the back gently, and skipped out of the kitchen to see to some hungry customers. It didn’t take long for them to hear his cheerful accent through the double doors.

 Fili’s attention went straight back to Kili, who by now had started whisking up a cake mix again. “Kili?” the baker didn’t even look up.

Fili sighed inaudibly, picking up his own baking tool and getting back to work. He was sure Kili would tell him what he was going to say one day, when all this had been sorted and they’d find a way to just forget about everything. But for now, it looked like Fili was being the one ignored.

*****  
Ori was feeling bloody fantastic. No, in fact, he was feeling more than that. He felt like going out into the world, opening his arms out, and shouting into the sky that he was reading to kick some ass. In an artistic way of course. He’d been talking to Dwalin all afternoon, and he’d never spoken to someone, a mere stranger, that believed in him more than his own brothers.

Dwalin had practically complimented him on every bit of knowledge he had of art, and of his history skills, and basically told him he should screw the world and show off his art. The tattooist hadn’t even seen his art, yet he still insisted he share it with the entire population of the United Kingdom. His words had sparked a bit of confidence in Ori.

In just a few hours he’d gotten closer to Dwalin, just by talking about their fondness for art, and of course their love for food, and for that programme on television about a man who could read minds and solved mysteries with his powers. Who would have thought they’d have at least one thing in common, let alone two?

Ori didn’t even think Dwalin would have any interest in talking with him in the first place. It surprised him how long they’d kept up a conversation; it was so easy and delightful to talk to him. The young artist was looking forward even more to see the tattooist soon.

Ori’s end of the day was beyond doubt better than it was at the start of the day. After stacking all those old, some strangely titled books, he’d been asked to work down in the art room adjacent to the library. It was a small room, every wall highlighted with art painted and drawn by artists from all over Britain, talented people who just wanted to show what they could do. If Ori had the guts, he’d ask his grumpy old sod of a boss if he could add one of his sketches to the collection.

All Ori had to do that afternoon was add a few more frames to the wall, and the best part was that he got to choose which art pieces got to go in them. He loved to look at other people’s art, it always intrigued him to see the rainbow of colours, and the meaning behind them.

“Ori?”

Ori looked up from the painting he had been admiring on the wall, glancing over to see Alie, one of the employees from the desk front. “Yeah?”

“Your brother’s outside waiting for you.”

“Oh.” Ori murmured. “I had no idea he was coming here.”

“Said something about a night out.”

Ori rolled his eyes in realisation. “Ah. I’m guessing they’re thinking it’s never too early to drink.”

Alie chuckled. “Of course it’s not!”

Ori laughed softly, picking up his bag from the corner of the room. They both walked down the long and widened hallway, past the library and down some steps, before they came to the reception area. Ori thanked Alie as he spotted his brother, eyeing up one of the statues near the door.

“Never understood why such a weird piece of art is right next to the entrance.” Nori told him, as Ori approached. “If I saw that thing, I’d run straight back out the door.”

Ori chuckled quietly, adjusting the strap over his shoulder. “That’s what I’d do too.”

Nori grinned, slinging an arm around his little brother, and gently pushing him towards the front door. “Let’s get going.”

“Should I be wondering why you picked me up from work?”

“Nah,” Nori said. “We thought we’d pick you up on the way. We decided to close shop early.”

“On the way to where?” Ori asked, he was pretty sure Nori had no idea about Dwalin and his texting afternoon, so he played it cool.

“Drinking and eating of course.” Nori grinned from ear to ear. “The guys are waiting in the car.”

As he said it the car came into view, just around the corner from the entrance to the museum. Ori could already see Thorin in the driver’s seat, and an awkward looking Fili and Kili in the back, he then noticed Dwalin sitting next to them, looking squished against the window.

“Bofur’s going to meet us at the pub.” Nori told him, opening the back door. “Here you go.”

Dwalin popped his head out, grinning up at Ori. “Evening Ori.”

“Hi Dwalin.” Ori smiled, blushing slightly.

“Budge up!” Dwalin growled at Fili and Kili, who by now were practically flat against the other side of the car.

Once they all left at least a little room for Ori to sit next to Dwalin, and everyone had greeted him in the small space of the car, Nori plonked his butt in the passenger’s seat and slammed the door shut. Thorin started the car, it roared to life, and they were off for a long night out in the city of London.


	5. The Iron Axe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you call a drunk Irishman that won't shut up? 
> 
> Bofur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks for reading this far, means alot! :)
> 
> just to let you guys know I won't be updating for a while after this.. I'm going away for 3 months.. but while I'm away I'll try to write as much as I can so I can get the next chapter up a.s.a.p! :)

It had been a long day, a very long day. One of those days where you just watch every tick the hand of the clock makes, and count down the minutes until a certain time, and constantly ask your friends how long left until they’re ready to go. The slow fall of the rain made it seem like the day was stretching out, dark clouds covering the city of London.

Thorin’s day had been utterly boring, every client he’d had hadn’t said a word to him, the most he’d got out of one of them was an update on the weather. He could see it was raining for himself thank you very much. It wasn’t helping that Nori was running up and down the stairs like an idiot, trying to find out the scores for the rugby, Beorn was trying to make another one of his wooden animals, and Dwalin was either tattooing or texting some mysterious stranger on his phone.

So it was grand to get to leave work a little earlier than usual, jump in the car, and drive to the greatest bar he’d ever stepped foot in. The Iron Axe, a comfortable sized pub like restaurant situated only a few minutes away from the tattoo parlour, sitting on its own but surrounded by grocers to bakeries. From the outside it looked like a worn out, greying bungalow, with round windows and thick wooden doors, not to mention the black slatted roof.

The inside however, was like stepping into a second home. Coming through the door there was the smell of freshly cooked meals, ale and a burning fire, all drifting through from the back kitchen and off the plates on the tables. The tables and chairs themselves were of dark wood, big enough to be snug to sit in and around, and the carpet sprawled underneath them was of a beautiful, gold and silver pattern.

The walls were painted a light grey, but strewed with magnificent paintings of dragons, castles and mountains, brightening the walls and telling stories from one frame to the next. Solid wooden beams held up the ceiling, giving it that old fashioned feeling, while the bar at the back of the restaurant had exactly that same reaction. It was a timbered bar, reaching from the kitchen door to the restrooms, and decorated with pictures from the past and present behind it, and jugs and funny shaped glasses sitting on the shelves.

Then there was the great stone fireplace, lit and scenic at one side of the room, warming the place up and giving off the feeling of a welcoming atmosphere. That is where Nori led the group, winding his way through the other jolly looking regulars, raising their ale jugs in the air and cheering without a care in the world. The team took their seats near the fireplace, at a table near a small, rounded window, each sliding into a chair as if they’d had a long, hard day’s work. Which most of them definitely had.

“So,” Thorin began, shrugging off his jacket. “What are we having? First round’s on me.”

The men applauded happily, Thorin only rolling his eyes in return. “Good start!” Nori laughed. “Grab me an ale!”

“Me too!” Dwalin butted in, turning to Ori who was sitting next to him. “What would you like Ori?”

 “Oh,” Ori fiddled with the hem of his jumper, shrugging a little. “I’m fine thank you, I don’t drink much.”

“Don’t drink?” Kili chuckled. “Come on Ori, just this once.”

“Yeah!” Nori patted his brother on the back. “I promise I won’t tell Dori!”

Ori blushed a little, everyone’s eyes on him, all trying to get him to have just the one drink. He wasn’t much of a drinker really, he only ever had a few when it was a special occasion or if he desperately needed one, one reason was because he’d turned up to a lecture once feeling sick and completely whacked.

“Shut it,” Dwalin told them, swatting Nori’s hand away that was poking his brother in the arm. “If the lad don’t want a drink, then he don’t want a drink!”

“Oh,” Nori teased. “Look who’s being a knight in shining armour!”

“More like a body guard with that face.” Thorin added, earning a laugh from everyone around the table.

Dwalin just glared and said, “Fuck off.”

“Gladly!” Thorin grinned charmingly, pushing his chair back to stand. “Nori, any idea what Bofu-“

“I’ll have a beer if you’re offering!”

The merry Irish tone of Bofur himself chimed in, his smiling self strolling up to the group and slinging an arm around Thorin. Everybody greeted him happily, laughing at the way he dishevelled a not so amused Thorin’s hair, who was trying very hard to bat his arm away. It wasn’t long before a tall, grim faced looking man walked up beside the Irishman, nodding at the men around the table, as Bofur slapped him playfully on the arm as if in salutation.

Thorin was first to welcome the bearded man, followed by Dwalin who shook his hand firmly, and making his way around the table he soon came to Fili and Kili and gave them both a warm hug.

“Bifur!” Nori practically bellowed, swinging out an empty chair beside him. “Come and sit your butt down!”

Bifur, as he was called, did take a seat beside Nori, and on his other side sat Ori. It took the scruffy looking man a while to realise just who Ori was, Bifur did a double take which looked comical to the rest of the crew, and in excitement he dived forward and crushed the younger man in a hug.

Ori giggled happily, returning the friendly embrace. “Hi Bifur.”

Bifur pulled back, clutching a hold of Ori’s upper arms and looking him up and down as if he’d changed from a boy to an octopus. Everybody watched in amusement as Bifur grinned in delight at the sight of Ori, babbling away in the language that no one could understand but himself, using his hands to communicate.

A few years ago Bifur had been in an accident, his motorcycle had gone straight into a moving car, resulting in him hitting his head hard on the concrete floor. The results had been life changing, he’d earned a scar at the top of his forehead, and his speech had been affected, he couldn’t talk for months. Slowly his voice had returned to him, but instead of speaking in the English language, Bifur could only speak in a tongue nobody else could understand.

Luckily for him, his family and his friends were the best things in his world, and he didn’t need to speak in their language for them to understand. Everyone loved Bifur, he had a heart of gold, and he cares more about people that he does about himself, he didn’t need a voice for people to realise that.

“Hey Bifur, what are you having?” Bofur called over to his cousin.

Bifur put up a hand and made a fist, and with his other hand he flicked his thumb over it. “Beer it is!” Bofur grinned, and Thorin didn’t waste any more time to grab the first orders.

Serviettes were flying about the place, tomato sauce was been tipped, chips were being flung down t-shirts, and a stack of empty glasses were forming in the middle of the table. Within two hours the entire crew were either very drunk, slightly tipsy, or in Ori’s case, laughing their heads off at every uproarious thing the others were doing.

It was safe to say that Nori and Bofur were utterly screwed, they were crazy without alcohol, but the amount of beers and ales they’d had in the last hour heightened their madness. Dwalin was just a tad bit drunk, but not too far gone that he’d forget where he put his house keys, which couldn’t be said for Bifur who was currently adding tomato sauce to his beer, a dare that Kili had thrown at him out of the blue.

Kili himself was taking caution; he’d only had a little to drink, because if Bombur saw him walk in with a hangover the next day he’d get an ear full. Fili must have been thinking the same, he was still clutching the same bottle of beer he’d ordered an hour ago, sometimes he’d drift away into his own mind and just stare at it before Thorin nudged him. Even the tattooist himself wasn’t too intoxicated, he was slightly more tipsy than his nephews though, which was shocking since they’d usually be the ones throwing chips down the other’s shirts.

It was quite amusing for Ori, since he was the only one not drinking. They were a fun bunch to watch, he’d seen Nori after a few drinks before, and sometimes Bofur, but add Dwalin and Thorin into the picture and it was like a circus act. Even as he thought it, Dwalin had just finished making, more like attempting, a plane out of a serviette, and failing to throw it at Bifur’s head. The plane just swayed in the air for a second, and dropped into the pile of chips.

“Damn thing.” Dwalin growled, scrunching it up instead and aiming for his target.

“It’s a serviette Dwalin.” Ori chuckled softly, watching as Bifur threw it over to Kili. “It’s not going to work very well.”

“Hm.” Dwalin hummed, reaching his arm around the smaller man and resting it on his chair. “You’re smart, I wouldn’t have thought about that.”

Ori laughed. “I’m sure you would have.”

“Nah,” Dwalin grinned, bumping his knee against Ori’s under the table. “You’re just really smart, ye know that?”

“Well, I do try.”

“I bet you’re as beautiful as you are smart.” Dwalin winked.

Ori blushed slightly from the unexpected comment, the light brush of Dwalin’s knee against his sending his blood pressure soaring. Thank god Nori wasn’t seeing this.

At least another half hour passed when Bofur was absolutely hammered, and Nori was following behind, while Dwalin was just a little giddy and Bifur was falling over in his chair every time he burst out laughing. Luckily Thorin just had that fuzzy feeling in his stomach, while Fili and Kili looked like they were sobering up pretty quickly and Ori was practically being their babysitter. The poor man’s heart would be in his throat every time Bofur put his hand near the fire, or Nori and Bifur started poking each other with the knives and forks.

Thorin wasn’t helping in the slightest though, he seemed to find the fire catching and fork fighting hilarious, cheering them on like it was the safest game to play whilst utterly drunk. As Thorin once again yelled at the other men, this time supporting them in their ‘how many chips can you hold in your mouth’ competition, Ori looked over at Fili and Kili who were not so enthusiastic as the rest of them, Fili mostly, for Kili did have a huge grin on his face as Bifur spat his chips over his lap.

“Are you alright?” Ori asked Fili across the table, loud enough for him to hear over the loud roars of the others.

Fili looked over, his expression like a deer in the headlights. “Oh, yeah, sorry I’ve just got a headache.”

“Oh,” Ori picked up his glass of icy water. “You should drink this, it could be the alcohol disagreeing with you.”

“No, I’m fine really, don’t worry Ori. Thanks for the gesture.”

“You sure? You look really down.”

Fili smiled, grateful for his new friend’s kind heart. “I’m sure-“

“Sure?” Bofur must have heard their conversation, because the Irishman climbed across his seat and flung himself onto Nori’s lap beside Ori, all attention on him as he shoved a pint of beer into Bifur’s hand. “You look like shit Fili!”

“Yeah!” Nori said. “What’s gotten into you tonight? You sick?”

“You look it.” Dwalin added, taking a sip of water that Ori had got him minutes before.

“I’m fine.” Fili rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. “I look like shit because I havn’t been sleeping well. Fuck off.”

“Oh, someone’s touchy.” Bofur teased.

“He’s been working hard lately.” Thorin said, patting his nephew on the back. “These two are hard workers, like me.” He smirked.

The crowd laughed, Dwalin throwing a piece of a burger bun right at his forehead. “Aye, you keep telling yourself that, you lazy git.”

Bofur suddenly piped up, almost chocking on his bottle of beer. “Maybe you need a boyfriend!”

“Yes!” Thorin agreed, laughing as Fili rolled his eyes. “You havn’t had one in so long, maybe that’s why you’re so miserable these days.”

“Shut up.” Fili all but growled, diverting his gaze to the ever so interesting empty plate in the middle of the table. “I’m perfectly fine without one.”

“Or you need some hoo ha!” Nori yelled.

Bofur had to smack his hand across his other half’s mouth, the rest of them starting to giggle like a bunch of drunken college students, Ori by now was laughing to himself as he listened and watched in amusement at the others. It was like dining with a bunch of crazy, wild men, especially when they ate.

“What the fuck is hoo ha?” Dwalin grumbled, turning to Ori quickly and saying, “Sorry laddie, didn’t mean to swear.”

“Hoo ha!” Nori looked at the bigger man as if he was thick as a plank. “Sex! Fili needs to get it on.”

“Oh, for goodness sake!” Fili sighed, hiding his face in his hands. “Please, shut up.”

Kili by now was trying so hard to ignore the so called conversation, taking more of an interest in the glass of ale he had against his lips, hoping to get somewhat drunk with each sip he took. He didn’t want to hear them talk about Fili getting a boyfriend, and he most definitely didn’t want to hear about Fili and sex in the same sentence.

“You need to get laid.” Was all Nori said, Bofur and Bifur nodded in agreement. “Mystery solved!”

“Good on you Sherlock.” Fili mumbled from behind his hands.

“Come to think of it, it’s been a while since I saw you with someone.” Thorin began, looking at his nephew questioningly. “When’s the last time you _did_ have sex with someone?”

Kili found it impossible to swallow his drink properly all of a sudden and choked on it, he started coughing uncontrollably and quite noisily. Thorin turned to him and whacked him on the back to help, the rest of the men finding it comical, the baker hadn’t said a word all night and he’d finally brought some entertainment to the table.

“You alright?” Thorin asked him, an amused grin on his face. “Did the word sex scare you?”

“Very funny.” Kili huffed, coughing faintly to get rid of the horrible feeling in his chest.

“He speaks!” Dwalin declared.

“Now use that voice to tell your brother he needs to be bedded!” Nori told him, tossing a chip Kili’s way.

“Or maybe you could both keep each other satisfied.” Bofur winked at the two brothers, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

The group burst out laughing at Bofur’s gag, the man himself grinning in pride at his own joke. Although, Fili didn’t find it funny in the slightest, as soon as Bofur had said what he’d said Fili’s whole body had stiffened at its own accord, his breathing hitched. As the party carried on laughing and adding their own small funny stories into the prank, Fili let his hands fall to his lap, fingers digging into the material of his jeans.

No one seemed to have noticed his minor change of mood, too caught up in the joke, taking it further than Fili would like. The cake decorator looked up then, chancing a glance over at his older brother, who met his gaze instantly. Kili looked as taken back by the so called joke as he did, although he seemed hurt, somewhat upset, and Fili couldn’t understand why.

Fili sighed, pushing his glass away from him, and pushing his chair back. “Where you going?” Nori asked.

“Outside.” Fili said, his voice barely heard.

“Best keep Kili inside,” Bofur went on, the rest of them laughing at his silly rambling. “He might corner you in a dark alley!”

Fili stood suddenly, his chair almost tumbling off his legs. “Just shut the fuck up.”

With that said, Fili stormed out of the restaurant, no one else in the room paying him any attention as they had their own nights to enjoy. Everyone at their table however had abruptly gone silent, each one of them gazing at each other in shock at Fili’s small flare-up, Bofur in particular looking rather taken aback by the young man’s stinging words.

“It was only a joke.” Bofur said, looking at Thorin for some answers to why his nephew had practically ran out in a rage.

“I know.” Thorin said, not understanding much himself. “I don’t know why he said that.”

Kili was the only one who did. Bofur had taken it too far, way too far for Fili to feel comfortable, he didn’t know about his and Kili’s night spent together, but Kili knew that Bofur’s words had sparked a switch and set him off. Kili had hoped their jokes would stop after the first time, but it hadn’t, and none of them realised that it really wasn’t something to joke about.

“I’ll go see if he’s alright.” Kili said, barely a whisper.

“No.” Thorin stopped him with a hand. “I’ll go. You two still havn’t sorted things out.”

His uncle was right, he knew his nephews were still arguing about something, he may not know what about but Thorin would get to the bottom of it sooner or later. It hurt him to see his nephews drift apart, knowing that when they were together they would smile and laugh more than when they were separated.

Kili could only nod in agreement, letting his uncle stand and make his way around the table. “I’ll be right back guys, you carry on.”

*****  
“So, what was that all about?”

Fili’s heart stopped for a second as his uncle’s voice came out of nowhere, the silence having been the only sound he could hear outside. “Nothing.” He mumbled, kicking a stone on the ground.

“Fili.” Thorin warned in his stern tone, crossing his arms across his chest as he came face to face with the shorter man. “Now I know that was not nothing. You never act like that in front of anyone, and you most definitely don’t say things like that to Bofur.”

“Oh god.” Fili moaned, rubbing his hands against his head in frustration. “I’m such an asshole.”

“He’ll get over it. Now tell me why you got so angry. Was it because we talked about you having se-“

“No!” Fili barked. “No it wasn’t.”

“Right then,” Thorin carried on. “Was it because we said you needed a boyfriend?”

“No.” Fili deadpanned.

“You do realise I’ll keep nagging you until you tell me.”

“Yes, I realise that. I’ve lived with you my whole life!”

Thorin smiled at that. “Then tell me what’s bothering you.”

Fili sighed, letting himself fall back onto the stone wall that wound around the restaurant. He didn’t want to tell his uncle about what happened with Kili, but then again he hated lying to him, he’d never lied to his uncle in his entire life. But he just couldn’t bring himself to say it, knowing that Thorin could act in any way possible, from being furious to thinking it’s all just a funny story. So Fili decided to try a small lie instead.

“It’s Kili.”

“Ah.” Thorin sighed heavily, sitting himself down beside Fili. “Should have known. You two have been getting on my nerves with your gloomy behaviour for days now.”

“We’re not gloomy!” Fili bawled. “We’re just… having a break from talking.”

“Mhmm. And what exactly has brought on this break from talking? Did Kili forget to put his dirty pants in the laundry basket?”

Fili rolled his eyes. “Very funny uncle.”

“I know,” Thorin shrugged. “I’m a comedian. Now tell me what happened before I ground you.”

Fili couldn’t help but smile a little at his uncle. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Yes I would, now tell me.” Thorin kept his serious face on, he would definitely ground Fili if he wasn’t over twenty.

“We’re arguing because… because one night a few weeks ago, Kili and I got drunk and we… _he_ started telling me I need to shape up in work.”

It was far from the truth, but Fili had no choice but to make it up. By the looks of things, Thorin had kind of believed him, only his face wasn’t really giving anything away. His uncle stared at him with a blank expression, seemingly understanding but wondering why.

“You’re arguing because of that?” he finally said.

Fili nodded slowly, thinking of something to say encase Thorin decided to ask him further questions. Laughing was the least expected thing Fili considered him to do, so he just sat there waiting, because for some reason it was hilarious.

“Fili,” Thorin’s laughter died down, his arm wrapping around his nephews shoulder. “That is ridiculous, of all the things to be arguing about, and you two love each other so much that you’d not talk over such a thing.”

“I know.” Fili sighed, wishing he didn’t have to lie to him. “It is silly, we’re trying to get passed it.”

“Good.” Thorin squeezed his shoulder lightly. “I don’t like seeing the two of you like this. You’re my nephews and I love you both so much, it hurts me to see you argue as much as it hurts the both of you.”

Fili let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I know.”

“Now, let’s get back in there quickly before Bofur and Nori do something they regret. You and Kili need to sort things out soon.”

Fili nodded, letting his uncle lift him up off the wall by his arm, and guiding him back inside. “Remember that if you need me, I’m always here Fili, don’t keep things from me.”

And Fili felt even more guilty for lying to the one man he knew he could trust.

*****  
As soon as Fili and Thorin had stepped back inside, Fili had apologised for his behaviour, only the others thought that he didn’t need to and made him drink some more and forget it even happened. Nobody questioned his bad mood, and he was pleased and grateful about it.

Kili however was ready to go home, and drift off to sleep. Fili looked straight at him when he’d sat back down in his chair, and just stared at him, his expression blank and unreadable. Kili snapped himself out of his younger brother’s gaze, grabbing a hold of his beer bottle and downing the rest of the contents. It was going to be one of those nights again, wishing that Fili and him weren’t so torn apart.

By the end of the night no one could even remember Fili’s minor tantrum, for most of the group were off in another world, completely off their faces.  Even Thorin had gotten so drunk that he couldn’t remember how his dragon tattoo got there, Kili had gone from sober to a little tipsy to loosen himself up a bit, and Fili was the only one out of the family that could walk in a straight line. He was chosen as the babysitter for the other two.

Bofur, Bifur and Nori were the worst, they’d drank so much that they made the entire restaurant full of people sing and dance while they stood on the tables and made a show of themselves. The owners must have liked them way too much, because they stood in the corner of the room, clapping and laughing as if they didn’t mind the men’s grubby boots on their wooden tables. Ori had never seen his older brother so drunk, it amused him to no end, and he knew he’d have to come up with a good story to tell Dori in the morning when Nori would be puking his guts out and practically falling down the stairs.

When they’d all stumbled outside, Ori walking behind and laughing at every word that passed Bofur’s lips, they’d decided to part and make their way home. Although Dwalin lived with Thorin and his nephews, Thorin told him to borrow his car to drop off the three drunken men and Ori. Luckily Dwalin had sobered up immensely, flinging water down his throat like he was drying up and stopping after a couple of mugs, only to be able to talk to Ori without making a fool of himself, but he’d never tell anyone that.

Thorin had waved down a taxi for himself, Fili and Kili, ready to go home and curl up into his sheets, just waiting for the hangover to begin in the morning. He wasn’t looking forward to opening the tattoo parlour. Although it had been one hell of a night, he’d soon regret it when his head will feel like it’s about to explode, and his eyes might just not be able to handle the light.

So Ori, with Dwalin’s help, had forced his brother and the two Irishmen into Thorin’s car, praying to whatever God was in the sky that none of them would puke on the clean seats. It took a while, Nori wanted to go and thief the gnome that was sitting by the pub’s gate, while Bofur kept falling over whilst trying to tie his lace, thankfully Bifur had already gotten into the backseat no problem.

It took approximately eleven minutes to get the childlike adults into the car, Dwalin guessed that by that time Thorin and the boys were home by now, already in their night clothes and halfway to dreamland. It was reaching midnight when they were halfway to Ori and Nori’s house, the streets of London quiet and empty, the sensible ones already tucked up in bed and getting plenty of sleep for work the next day.

While Bofur and Nori sat singing their lungs out in the backseat, Ori was in the passenger’s seat, cringing at every high note his brother tried to hit. Dwalin could feel his pain, it wasn’t the most melodic tune he’d ever heard, Bofur wasn’t too bad, but Nori basically made up his own version of songs that sounded like a cat being ran over.

“Almost there.” Dwalin told Ori, laughing as the younger boy groaned in embarrassment as Nori tried out a Celine Dion song.

“Thank goodness.” He chuckled. “I swear he gets worse the more he drinks.”

“I can vouch for that.”

Ori laughed softly. “I’m sorry you have to hear it. Once is enough.”

Dwalin grinned, swatting Bifur’s hand away as he started poking him on the shoulder. “Maybe I should turn on the radio.”

“Oh, no,” Ori said. “Unless you want Nori and Bofur to start karaoke, which is so much worse. Trust me.”

“Oh dear lord, I think I prefer the nursery rhymes.”

“You wait until Bofur gets to the Disney phase.”

Dwalin chortled, a deep growl in his throat, sharing an amused grin with the inspiring artist. Before they knew it, Bofur had indeed burst out into Disney songs, starting with the chorus to a Lion King tune. Nori was joining in of course, his impressions of the characters were so entertaining it had everyone else laughing, even Dwalin who hadn’t even seen the movies in years.

It turned into such a show that Dwalin soon joined in on the fun, dancing in his seat while tapping his hands on the steering wheel to the tunes, earning a delighted cheer from the backseat passengers.  Ori laughed wholeheartedly as he watched the men make fools of themselves at the back of the car, gigantic grins plastered on their faces, even Bifur was dancing like a wild monkey with his arms flying everywhere.

That’s how it went for the next ten minutes, the roads were practically vacant at this time of the night in their part of London, giving Dwalin enough space to manoeuvre his way around without looking like a crazy drunk driver. Not even once had the three men in the back taken a breath before they got home, it seemed as though the fresh air hadn’t even hit them.

Dwalin took them to the front of Nori and Ori’s house, parking behind their older brother’s car. Thankfully all the lights were off, indicating that Dori was already asleep in bed, having been reassured by Ori hours before that they would return before midnight. Although it was slightly past midnight, technically he’d kept the promise, it was closer to midnight than one o’clock.

Unfortunately Nori couldn’t get out of the car without making noise. “Ah shit, my leg!”

“Nori!” Ori jumped out of the passenger’s side of the car, after saying his farewells to Bifur and Bofur. “Be quiet! You’ll wake up Dori!”

“Oh fuck.” Nori chuckled loudly, leaning himself against the boot. “Don’t want to wake that moody bastard!”

Ori rolled his eyes, slamming the door shut that Nori forgot to close. “No we don’t.”

Dwalin chuckled from the driver’s seat, wondering what a scene it would make if Dori did wake up, strutting out from the front door in his dressing gown and giving Nori what’s what. Now that would be pure entertainment to end the night. Dori didn’t however wake up, it must have been Ori’s practiced skills at shutting his brother up by clipping him across the ear when he opened his mouth, it was starting to look like Nori was the baby of the family.

“See you tomorrow my love!” Nori shouted, leaning through the open window of the car to throw himself at Bofur.

Ori groaned in frustration. “This is going to take a while.”

“I hope Dori’s a good sleeper.” Dwalin said to Ori. “Nori’s got a voice like a fog horn!”

“Luckily Dori can sleep for Britain.” Ori answered with a grin.

Dwalin smiled back, watching as Ori began laughing softly at his brother, who by now had his behind sticking in the air out of the window, Bifur trying to wrestle him from the inside of the car. It had been a night that Dwalin wouldn’t forget so easily, after deciding to tone down the drinking, he’d began conversing with Ori all through the evening whenever he could.

They’d talked about all sorts of things, from the current TV programmes to art, having much more in common than Dwalin would have thought. The more he got to know Ori the more he’d taken a liking to the young man; Ori had something about him that just made Dwalin feel at ease, and laugh without a care in the world. As cheesy as it sounded, and Dwalin was not at all that way, Ori was like a little angel, no bad bone in his body.

“So, little man.” Dwalin called to Ori. “Don’t I get a goodbye before your sod of a brother decides to leave?”

As he said this he reached out an arm, hoping Ori got the picture. He didn’t mean to seem so forward and all, but Ori looked like the kind to give hugs. Dwalin was right in his theory of course, Ori gave him a sweet smile, and walking towards him he leaned down and ducked his head to give Dwalin an awkward angled hug. They both laughed as they tried to hug while one of them was sitting inside a car, while the other had to twist and bend through the open window, it wasn’t the easiest task.

Pulling away, Ori felt Dwalin give his arm a slight squeeze, it only made him blush to the tip of his ears. “We’ll have to do that again when I’m not stuck in a car.” Dwalin winked.

Ori smiled happily, hoping Dwalin couldn’t see the embarrassing tint to his cheeks. “Yeah.” He said shyly.

“Oi!” Nori grabbed a hold of Ori out of nowhere, chucking his arm around his shoulder. “No more touching! Hands off beasty!”

Dwalin rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say pisshead.”

Nori stuck his tongue out. “Let’s go Ori, before Dwalin steals you!”

Ori was suddenly being tugged down the pathway to their house, Nori fumbling in his pockets to look for the keys, he wouldn’t be successful because the keys were actually in Ori’s pocket.

“Where are those fuckers?” Nori grumbled, tearing through his jacket.

Ori reached into his own pocket, pulling the key out and holding it in front of Nori’s confused face. “Looking for this?”

“Smartass.”

Nori snatched them into his own hands, and leaning close enough to the door lock that he’d be making a dent in his forehead if he got nearer, he tried but failed every time to get the key into the lock. Ori couldn’t help but laugh at his silly brother, he really needed to start recording him, maybe then he could use the videos as a bargaining tool one day.

Before Nori could start shouting and cursing, and then most probably waking up Dori, Ori took the key from him, and with one try got it into the lock. He opened the door quietly, making sure that Nori didn’t make any sound as he went inside, although some whispers about damn shoes and stupid light switches did follow.

Before Ori went inside himself, he took another glance back at the car a few yards away. The car was still there, Bifur and Bofur too caught up in their little wrestle match in the backseat to even notice they were still outside the house. But Dwalin was watching Ori, making sure that the young man got in safe and soundly, ready to knock Nori out if he started yelling at the top of his voice.

Ori was grateful for Dwalin’s kindness, and felt a swell of something inside his chest, although he couldn’t quite understand. He sent the older man a wave from his doorstep, smiling as Dwalin sent him one back.

“Holy cotton socks!”

Ori sighed, rolling his eyes as he heard Nori shuffling around in the hallway inside, he definitely wasn’t getting up to no good by the sounds of things. With a last look at Dwalin as he drove away, Ori stepped inside and shut the front door behind him.

Half an hour went by, and Ori was settling into bed, after getting Nori into his own and sticking a bucket by the side of it. Surprisingly his phone started buzzing, and Ori plucked it off his bedside table, he smiled instantly as Dwalin’s name lit up the screen.

_Remember the next time I see you, I want that hug  x_

Ori grinned blissfully, and after sending Dwalin a text that promised him the best hug he could give, he let his head fall onto his pillow and drifted off into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess what... Thranduil's making an appearance in the next chapter! Woo!
> 
> Let the drama begin!


	6. Think Before You Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back after a long time away! Sorry for not updating sooner but I've been working abroad and had no time to finish another chapter!
> 
> But here it is, all done :)

Ori was tired, no not just tired, he was absolutely knackered. In two days all he’d done was stack boxes, sort out books, label them, take heavy frames from one room to another, and decorate a room with artefacts. Work was driving him insane, and he didn’t think it would happen so soon.

It wasn’t helping that Nori was downstairs moaning and groaning about everything under the sun, the only words Ori could catch was ‘rain’ and ‘buses’ and ‘customers’. Ori would have sworn Nori was still hung-over since the other night, he was still waking up with a bad head and slurring his words. The night after their gathering at the Iron Axe, Nori had woken up in hell, it was a little hard for Dori not to notice how bad of a state he was in. Nori had gotten a piece of Dori’s mind for hours, which didn’t help his hangover one bit.

Ori laughed to himself in bed, as he rolled over onto his stomach and stuffed his face into the pillow. It was way too light outside to get out of bed, it just made him want to close his curtains fully and just  be lazy for the day, especially after the couple of days he’d had in work that week. But Dori’s ever so chiming voice was constantly shouting up the stairs, reminding him to be at work in the next hour. He really needed to get a flat of his own sometime soon.

Ori sighed into the cushion, wrapping his arms around it and giving it a tight squeeze. What he didn’t expect all of a sudden was his phone to buzz, the high tone of the melody practically deafening him in his sleepy state. He groaned into the fabric of the pillow, burying his face deeper into it, and at the same time he threw his hand over to the bedside table, blindingly reaching out for his phone.

He’d got it easily, and with more effort than he’d thought he could muster up, he lifted his head from the pillow to take a look at the screen. It was from Dwalin, he’d sent a long message which had Ori jumping up into a sitting position, a pleased smile on his face. The young artist definitely wasn’t feeling sleepy or lousy anymore.

In the text Dwalin had invited Ori to have dinner with himself and the rest of the crew over at the tattoo parlour that day, making sure that he’ll nag his boss for at least an hour off for his lunch break, which could be arranged of course. Ori had replied instantly, his straight up answer being a definite yes, already looking forward to seeing Dwalin and spending time with the crazy lot at the tattoo shop and bakery. Although, Nori would be wondering how Ori and Dwalin were suddenly texting. Ori would just have to lie his way out of that one.

“Ori!”

The door to Ori’s room burst open, and behold there stood Dori, hands on his hips and a glare on his face. Ori rolled his eyes at his demanding brother, knowing exactly what that look was all about, and before Dori could mutter a single word to him Ori was out of bed and diving for his clothes.

“I know, I know,” Ori mumbled. “I’m getting ready.”

“Good.” Dori fussed, chucking Ori’s jumper to him from the door handle. “Get a move on, the bus gets here in fifty minutes.”

Dori really was starting to sound like an old woman.

*****

“Hakuna matata, what a wonderful phrase!”

Beorn was in a good mood that day. Not like he was in a bad one most of the time, his temper did give him some bad days, but today was one of those special ones. The night before he’d finished two more wooden animals, gotten his handmade quilt finished, and adopted another bear on one of those wildlife websites. He was rather looking forward to the free bear toy he’d be receiving in the post.

Beorn was one of those guys that had a thing for nature, and wildlife, being brought up in the countryside where his parents had their own farm, filled with all sorts of animals from massive pigs, to horses, to wild deer that they’d always feed in their fields. Beorn would love going for strolls in the woods with his mother, and chopping wood by the edge of the lake with his father, and making the log fire in the night to keep them warm, while putting on the vegetable stew in the pot on the stove.

It was true that Beorn was a man of wonder, unusual habits such as wood carving and pot making, to creating his own books with recycled paper and leather bounds. But that’s what made Beorn such a loving person, he was different, and he loved to be that way, nobody could bring him down or tell him to change, because frankly he would give them one good growl that would send them running the other way.

“Hakuna matata…” Beorn hummed to himself.

He was currently fixing up the days schedule behind the reception desk, caught up in the Lion King tunes to even notice what he was doing, multitasking wasn’t a skill of his. Beorn was also too distracted to notice Nori and Dwalin coming down from upstairs, mugs of tea held in their hands, and their attention all on him as he sang to himself.

“Aw, would you listen to that.” Nori teased, placing Beorn’s mug of tea down on the counter. “You’re singing kiddies songs.”

Beorn looked up at Nori with a frown. “Says the one who sings Aladdin songs when he’s pissed.”

“Touché.” Dwalin laughed, making his way over to the sofa.

“You’re a bitch.” Nori poked his tongue out at the wood carver, joining Dwalin.

Beorn chortled to himself quietly, proud of his own comeback. He soon returned to the books in front of him, ignoring anything around him as he tried reading the funny names that were down for the day’s customers, he had no idea why people would call their kid ‘Pear’.

Beorn soon came to the end of the page, it took him precisely seventeen minutes to finish going through the bookings. Not even Nori and Dwalin’s annoying jabbering on the sofa put him off, and their loud voices were usually enough to make him lose his concentration. He was even in time for the shop to open up, for Thorin was coming down the stairs, followed by a short man with light brown hair, and a cheeky grin that was immensely contagious.

“Bilbo Baggins!” Dwalin called over to the short man, who was busy putting papers back into his brown side bag. “Are you coming back for dinner later?”

Bilbo buckled the bag shut and slung it over his shoulders. “I’m afraid not Dwalin, got more people to see and depress with their bills and stuff.”

“You do have a thing for that.” Nori chuckled, seeing as Thorin looked miserable. “I’m guessing Thorin’s bills aren’t looking too good.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “We’re a little under this month.”

“Oh damn,” Nori grinned. “Looks like we’re going to have to call in some teenagers to get some pointless tattoos, which they’ll most likely regret a few months later.”

“No need for that.” Bilbo smiled toothily, clasping his hands together behind his back. “Thorin’s come up with an idea for more sales.”

“What’s that then?” Dwalin asked curiously. “Get Nori to steal some paintings from some houses, and sell them on?”

Nori laughed loudly at that, and got a good laugh out of everyone else besides Thorin. “Close enough.” He said. “I’m thinking do some ourselves and sell them, you know, with those fancy frames or on canvas.”

“That’s a good idea.” Beorn threw in, standing up to give Thorin his list of clients for the day. “Cheaper than hiring someone or buying them from somewhere else, and your art will be recognised, more people will come in for tattoos.”

“Exactly.” Bilbo chimed, clapping his hands together. “Now, I must be off. I think I left my handkerchief at home.”

“As usual.” Dwalin declared, earning a not so amused look from Bilbo.

“Important stuff, Dwalin.” Bilbo said, making his way to the door and turning to Thorin. “Don’t worry about it too much Thorin, I’ll get everything sorted, and you just have a think about the art selling idea.”

“Will do Bilbo,” Thorin answered with a sigh. “Thanks again, see you soon.”

“At Gandalf’s get together.” Bilbo said, looking at every single one of them in the room. “Remember?”

“Oh shit.” Nori cursed.

“Completely forgot.” Dwalin admitted.

“This is why you all need a calendar!” Beorn told them, pointing to one behind the reception desk. “See! They come in handy when you got old man memories like you lot.”

They both laughed, shrugging in agreement. “We’ll be there.” Thorin answered for them, not admitting that he too had forgotten about it, since it was weeks away after all.

“Good.” Bilbo smiled cheerfully, skipping through the door. “Then I shall see you there, and don’t forget to bring Fili and Kili, and maybe a date.”

Thorin’s expression blanked. “I won’t be bringing a date.”

“A friend then!” Bilbo said, and before Thorin could answer the shorter man was already on his way down the street. “See you then Thorin!”

“Yeah, bye.” Thorin chuckled quietly to himself, standing in the doorway to watch as people bustled around on the streets.

Thorin could hear Dwalin and Nori setting up inside, loud clinks and clanks echoing about the place, while Beorn hummed to himself as he set up the drawings the customers had given him. It was a typical Tuesday, not so busy yet not so quiet, just enough clients to get through the day, and plenty of time to get the place cleaned and closed for an early night.

It was a warm day, if you could call it that, the sun had decided to make an appearance for a change, so it wasn’t a surprise to see Fili preparing the tables and chairs outside the bakery. Thorin called to him as loud as he could, which did the trick, Fili jogged down the street and across the road quickly before Bombur had anything to say about it.

“Did you tell Bombur were coming over for lunch today?” Thorin asked him.

“Yeah, all sorted.” Fili answered. “He’s saved you a table.”

“Good.” Thorin smiled. “Did you see Kili this morning?”

Fili nodded. “He’s in the back baking, he stayed over his friends house last night.”

“He has friends?”

Fili laughed, thumping his uncle on the arm for good measures. “Those two guys he knows from University, that’s all I know.”

“Of course it is.” Thorin sighed. “You two barely say a word to each other these days, remember?”

“Don’t start Thorin, we’re working on it.”

“Oh, you called me Thorin, I must be in trouble.” Thorin teased, giving Fili’s hair a ruffle. “But in all seriousness, I know you two aren’t working on it. I would know.”

Fili glared at Thorin, trying hard to make himself look mean. “You’re not going to let us take care of it by ourselves are you?”

“No,” Thorin stated. “I’ve told you, you’re my nephews and I hate seeing you both like this.”

“I know. Ok, if I promise you I’ll talk to Kili sometime this week, will you let us figure it out?”

“That’s a deal.” Thorin smiled.

“Good.” Fili smiled back. “Now I’d best go back, before Bombur realises I’ve gone missing.”

“See you later.” The tattooist called to his nephew, as he made his way back to the bakery.

It didn’t take long before Thorin’s first client had entered the parlour, and Dwalin’s came strolling in five minutes later, while Nori helped another pick out a tattoo. Luckily these guys were chatty, and it turned into more of a socialising gathering than a sticking a needle in your arm and cry in pain fest, which was what a lot of the customers were like. But these guys, you could tell they knew what kind of pain they were in for, judging by the amount of tattoos that were plastering their bodies from their necks to the tip of their toes.

Thorin’s guy was a bit tricky, seeing as the spot he had to tattoo was a blank circle surrounded by other tattoos that were randomly scattered. It took him a while to resize the tattoo, trying hard to fit it into the blank spot on the man’s back, hoping not to go over the other tattoos or make the one he was doing look blurry. Although it was a nightmare trying to do that tattoo, that morning had been the most interesting and fun one he’d had so far in weeks.

Beorn wasn’t having such a bad time either, since Nori was busying himself with designing a customer’s tattoo, he’d taken to sitting beside him and chatting through the morning. He did get some work done too, since their art files were currently in a state of disaster which he had to fix. So dinner time came around quicker than any of them had expected.

The clock struck half twelve, and Nori practically dived for the closed sign hanging on the front door. Their clients had left only minutes before, and everyone’s stomachs had been making noises, making it sound like an orchestra of growling tummies. It took them seconds to tidy up their stations in the back, and even less time to grab their wallets and sling on their jackets.

“We’ll have to wait a minute.” Dwalin told them out of nowhere, as everyone was ready to walk out the front door.

“What for?” Thorin asked.

“Ori,” Dwalin answered, seeing Nori’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. “He’s on his way.”

 “And how did you get my brother’s number?” Nori asked him suspiciously.

“I stole your phone when you weren’t looking.” Dwalin said straightforward, a cheeky grin coating his face. “You should really look after that thing.”

“You’re an asshole.” Nori announced to the world. “And keep at least six inches away from Ori.”

“Yes Sir.” Dwalin grinned, sharing an amused look with the rest of the staff.

Nori knew exactly what Dwalin was up to, he was onto him, he had his bug spray and boxing gloves at the ready if he was to so much as say one bad thing to Ori, no one messes with his family. He knew Dwalin was a good guy and everything, but he wasn’t exactly one to keep a relationship for more than a few weeks, too caught up in single life and just having fun when he felt like it. No, Nori was going to keep an eye on this one.

“Hi guys.”

It took Nori a while after glaring a hole into Dwalin’s head to realise that his brother had walked in, wearing his work shirt and the old leather bad slung over his shoulder. By the colourful paint smudges on his sleeves, he’d say Ori had been busy painting some stuff for the gallery that morning.

“Hi Ori!” Beorn greeted Ori with a bone crushing hug, having taken to him like a fish to water. “How wonderful to see you again.”

Ori smiled sweetly. “You too, Beorn.”

“Afternoon.” Thorin had said.

Dwalin had been taken by surprise as Ori hugged him tightly, a grin on his face as Dwalin looked at him with a smile. “I promised you that hug remember.” Ori smiled shyly.

“Oh aye,” Dwalin chuckled delighted. “That was better than I expected it to be.”

“Alright!” Nori intervened, stepping in between the sickeningly cute duo. “Break it up before I vomit, and then murder Dwalin, let’s go eat.”

“Wait!” Thorin almost yelled as something dawned on him, and he made his way to the upstairs door. “I forgot my phone.”

Everyone groaned in irritation, not surprised that Thorin had forgotten something. So Dwalin gave Ori a little nudge on the elbow, and guided him over to the sofa while they waited, as Beorn took a seat on his spinning chair by the desk and Nori began flicking through some magazine on top. When Thorin forgets his phone, it usually meant he’s lost it.

“Make yourselves comfortable people,” Nori told them, reading about a girl who liked to eat dog food. “We’re going to be here for a while.”

As Nori said this, there came a ding from the bell above the front door, signifying that someone was coming in. The group turned to look at who was coming into the shop when the sign obviously stated it was closed, and was surprised by who they saw. It was a little boy, almost certainly no more than seven years old; he had bright blue eyes and a mop of light blonde hair, close enough to be white.

Everyone in the room looked at each other in wonderment, as to why a little child had just walked into a tattoo parlour, a curious expression on his face as wondered in without a care in the world. No one knew what to do as they hadn’t exactly had training for little kids browsing for a tattoo, and luckily at that minute Thorin came stamping down the stairs, and through the door.

The tattooist stopped suddenly, phone held up in his hand as if he was about to shout in victory that he’d found it, and a confused look etched on his face. Thorin looked at Nori questioningly, as to why there was unexpectedly a small child standing by the door, gazing at the art on the wall. Nori shrugged, as did the rest of them as Thorin gave them the same questioning glance, nobody had any idea who the kid was and why he was currently standing in a tattoo parlour.

So Thorin did what he could, and walking slowly towards the child he stood tall above him, almost scarily from the poor kid’s point of view. Thorin instantly got down on his knees, being eye to eye with the blonde youngster instead of frightening him from being over six foot. The kid turned away from the paintings and doodles on the wall, to look at Thorin with a sweet smile, a little gap in between two front teeth where one had gone missing. it reminded Thorin of when Fili had a lost tooth when he was seven.

Thorin smiled cheerfully at the kid. “Hello.” He said.

“Hello.”

“You like that art?” Thorin asked, trying to be friendly with the kid.

“Yes, very much.” He grinned happily, earning a smile from everyone in the room at his pure adorableness.

“Did you come in to look at it?”

“Oh, no.” The kid frowned, suddenly sticking his hand into his pocket and retrieving a piece of scrunched up paper. “I want you to draw my daddy’s stories.”

Thorin gazed at the paper in the kid’s hand in confusion, as he started picking it apart to show what was on it. The entire room went quiet, and being nosy the rest of the crew leaned forward to see what was drawn on the paper. With a happy smile, the quiet youngster handed over the paper to Thorin, who started smiling at the picture he saw.

It was drawn by the kid; obviously by the colourful scribbles and untidy colouring in. On one side of the sheet there was a man with lengthy, blonde hair, in a robe that reached the floor, and on the other, there stood a boy with long hair, he held a bow in his hand and had arrows stuck to his back. He wasn’t a Picasso, but it wasn’t too bad for a seven year old.

“Did you draw this?” Thorin asked the kid nicely.

“Yes.” He grinned, obviously proud of his handy work. “It’s of my daddy’s stories.”

“The stories you want me to draw?”

The youngster nodded, clasping his hands at the front and swaying back and forth. “He tells me stories about elves in the woods, where he’s the King and I get to be his Prince who uses bow and arrows. We live in a beautiful cave that has fireflies for lights and small rivers that flow through.” The kid grinned brightly, getting excited about telling them his father’s tales.

“And once he told me a story about dwarves, who lived in mines underground, and dug treasures from the walls.” He began. “But the dwarves and elves don’t get along, because the dwarves think that the elves stole their treasure, and don’t want to be their friends. But elves are nice people, we would never do that.”

With a deep breath the kid soon stopped, with a wide smile still on his face. He seemed proud to tell the stories with the rest of them, and they bet he’d tell them a thousand more if he could. Thorin turned to the others with an amused glimpse, they too looked like they were enjoying the kid’s stories, he’d definitely stolen Thorin’s heart, he really did love kids and sometimes wished his nephews were still toddlers.

“I tell you what.” Thorin began. “Why don’t you bring your father or mother here with you, and then we can decide if we can make a book for him. I’m afraid I can’t do it without your parent’s permission.”

“I don’t have a mother.” He said. “And I want my daddy to have a surprise.”

Thorin sighed, wishing he hadn’t said anything, he felt kind of guilty letting it slip out without thinking. “I tell you what then, if you can get anyone in your family to bring you here, I’ll be glad to make a book for your father.”

There was no way he was going to upset this kid, he was too precious to turn away, especially when Thorin could tell he loved his father dearly. It reminded Thorin of himself when he was a kid, he doted on his father, and would do anything and everything for him. Not to mention the young boy’s eyes lit up immensely at the thought of bringing his father’s stories to life in pictures.

“And Beorn here,” Thorin pointed out. “Does amazing script writing, I’m sure he’ll add in one of the stories for you.”

“Or two.” Beorn grinned at the kid, who jumped up and down in happiness.

“Thank you!” The boy cheered, flinging himself onto Thorin and giving him a crushing hug.

Everyone laughed merrily at the little boy, who clung to Thorin like he was the greatest thing on earth. They’d never seen Thorin with kids before, and judging by the way he was with this one, he must have a soft spot for them. It helped that he’d raised Fili and Kili since they were children. Thorin grinned madly as the kid clung to him for dear life, chuckling softly as he mumbled his thank you over and over again.

“Legolas!”

Everybody in the room jumped at the sudden intrusion, the young boy leaping back in surprise. No one was paying much attention to the front door, when out of the blue there stood a tall man, with dark hair and bright blue eyes, his face incredibly eye-catching. Ori had no idea who the man was, but when he looked around at the others, their expressions had turned sour, each and every one of them glaring daggers at the man. Thorin too had turned from his smiling self, to the man with a cold heart.

“Thranduil.” Thorin simply said with an icy tone.

The man named Thranduil stared at Thorin in disbelief, giving him as much coldness back as Thorin threw at him. He then broke any eye contact, wanting nothing to do with him as he got closer to the young boy.

“Legolas.” He said to the boy, picking him up into his arms as the boy held out his own. “What did I tell you about wondering off?”

“I’m sorry daddy,” The boy, now known as Legolas, spoke softly to his father. “I just wanted to ask the man for a favour.”

“He’s _your_ son?” Nori blurted out, everyone else was in just as much shock as he was.

Thranduil just sent Nori a look of distaste, and ignored the rude dig. “I told you not to come in here.” Thranduil told his son, smoothing down a piece of hair that stuck out behind his small ear.

“And why shouldn’t he come in here?”

Thorin spoke with such venom in his words that Ori almost flinched, he’d never heard the man speak with so much distaste before, and it was kind of daunting. No one else seemed to have noticed, for they were still sitting quietly in their places, eyes not leaving the tall figure standing in their doorway. Ori could practically feel the tension in the room, as well as see it in the men’s body language.

“Because he’s a child!” Thranduil bit back at Thorin, holding Legolas tighter in his arms.

“Or is it because he shouldn’t go near people like us?” Thorin argued, crossing his arms over his chest, seeming to grow taller in stance.

“Oh grow up.” Thranduil sighed. “Not everything’s about you.”

Thorin laughed deep in his throat. “But it is this time isn’t it, not letting your kid look at some drawings, that’s not very nice.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I should and shouldn’t do with my child!” Thranduil almost yelled, his temper flaring.

Nori leaned himself further on the reception desk, stepping into the conversation. “He’s not telling you how to raise your kid. He’s simply stating the obvious.”

“The kid wasn’t doing bugger all.” Dwalin added, a growling tremble to his voice.

“No he wasn’t.” Thorin spoke, daring Thranduil to fight back, since that’s all they ever did when they were feet away from each other, and him being in the parlour just made it even easier for a row. “Poor kid doesn’t seem to have a choice in what he does.”

Thranduil stared at Thorin, not saying a single word. Nobody in the room seemed to care how they spoke, to Ori they sounded like a bunch of children, squabbling over silly things and making up ridiculous insults. The younger man watched Thranduil then, noticing how he’d gone quiet, and if he wasn’t mistaken, his sky blue eyes looked sad and distant as if he was lost in his own world.

Without another word from the dark haired man, he bent down to let Legolas stand on his own, grabbing a hold of his hand. “Come on Legolas, let’s go.”

Thranduil ignored the eyes that watched him head for the door, leading his son out, wanting nothing but to get away from the men who he had no interest in fighting with at that moment. But they weren’t having it.

“Leaving so soon?” Nori teased.

“About time.” Dwalin mumbled, barely audible to anyone but Ori.

Then Thorin spoke. “Probably going to go home to cry to his lover boy.”

No one was expecting what Thorin said to affect Thranduil, nothing ever did seem to affect him, but they were wrong this time, his whole body had suddenly stiffened before he could walk out the opened door. Thranduil turned around slowly, his eyes landing on Thorin, staring at him blankly.

Thorin let his arms drop to his side, sticking his hands into his jeans pockets, he stared back thinking Thranduil was about to hit him with some kind of insult. But what he didn’t expect was tears to form in the man’s eyes, barely there, but visible enough to notice, and all of a sudden Thorin’s heart sank and he knew that something was amiss. He’d never seen Thranduil with such an expression.

The other’s thought it too, for they were as silent as a graveyard, waiting for Thranduil to say whatever he had to say. But what he did say, came as a shock to all of them.

“My _lover boy_ ,” he almost choked on his words, “died yesterday. So _no_ , I won’t be going home to cry to him.”

It was all Thranduil had to say before he took a hold of Legolas’s hand tighter and practically stormed out of the shop in a hurry. No one in the room said a word, not one, too gobsmacked to even process what had just happened. Every single one of them suddenly felt like they’d been knocked in the chest, a pang of guilt rising in them.

It was worse for Thorin, who hadn’t moved an inch. As Thranduil had said those words the colour in his face had drained, his heart had stopped for a mere second, his so called enemies’ tearful eyes before he’d left were trapped in his mind. Thorin felt sick to the stomach, he wanted the world to swallow him up whole, never had he felt so disgusted by himself or wanted to scream so loud that it hurt.

“Holy shit.” Dwalin was the first to speak, having broken the deadly silence in the room, knowing what everyone was thinking in that moment. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I don’t think any of us were.” Nori sighed in disbelief.

Beorn was the first to make his way towards Thorin, placing a hand on his shoulder. The man hadn’t moved since Thranduil had left, staring at the door, looking paler than a blanket of snow.

“You ok?” Beorn asked softly.

Thorin nodded slightly, then moving his gaze away from the door he rubbed a hand down his face. “I’m such an asshole.” He sighed loudly, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” Beorn tried to reassure him. “It was a mistake.”

“A damn stupid one!” Thorin practically yelled, moving his hand into his hair and tugging on it, hoping to pull it all out in mere frustration.

Thorin at this minute felt like a complete, cruel, horrible man.

“But it was a mistake.” Nori butted in, his voice quieter than its usual rowdy tone.

“You weren’t to know Thorin,” Dwalin was the one to talk this time, making his way over to his friend and patting him on the shoulder. “None of us were to know. He could even be making it up!”

“What!” Thorin swatted Dwalin’s hand off his shoulder with a hard clout, looking at him as if he’d just grown two heads. “Did you not see his face when I mentioned his... his partner!”

“He wasn’t making it up Dwalin.” Ori said gently, coming to stand by the bigger man who looked taken back by Thorin’s sudden outburst. “He was about to cry.”

“Exactly!” Thorin said, a little quieter this time. “As soon as I mentioned … you know… his eyes they… he… he looked lost. He looked like I’d just stabbed him in the god damn chest!”

“But… you didn’t know.” Beorn tried again, he hated to see his long time friend this upset. “I’m sure if you just… talked to him he would be fine about it.”

Thorin snorted, letting himself drop into the nearest possible chair. “Like hell he’s going to even go near me after that, let alone say a word to me.”

“You could try.” Nori said, giving his shoulders a shrug. “Or you know… maybe just send him a note?”

“Yeah, a note’s not a bad idea!” Dwalin agreed.

“Yes.” Beorn also agreed, although he thought Thranduil wouldn’t take it so well. “But what if he doesn’t like notes?”

“What do you mean doesn’t like notes?” Nori almost laughed. “If Thorin sends him a note to state why he said what he said, and of course we can also write a little something, then poof! It’ll all be sorted!”

“Yes, yes!” Beorn just nodded. “Not bad, I suppose we could do that.”

Thorin seemed to be thinking about that idea at least, his eyes focused directly at the wall in front of him as the others debated. “That’s not a bad idea. Maybe I should… just to say I didn’t know… maybe I’ll…”

“Apologise?”

Every head turned to Ori who had joined in out of the blue, having kept quiet for a few minutes before he’d had enough of staying silent. The younger man was standing stiffly before them, arms crossed over his chest, with a not so amused expression plastering his face.

“I can’t believe you guys!” He said, his voice starting to sound a lot like Doris in Nori’s opinion. “After that poor man leaves here at the edge of breaking down into tears, and most probably feels like he’s been stomped all over, you lot think it’s a great idea to send him a NOTE!”

They all looked at each other, a little surprised at Ori’s outbreak, and the pang of guilt hitting them at his very wise words.

“I mean, you’re grown adults for crying out loud!” Ori continued. “No, Thorin, you weren’t meant to know about his partner passing away, none of you were, but what you said DID hurt his feelings and it’s also reminded him of his loss which is NOT helping him! So, you either go over there yourself to apologise to him for what you said, or I’ll go over there myself since you seem to have some kind of allergic reaction to his presence!”

The tattooist’s stared at him, just stared blank faced at the young man who at this point was glaring them all down. Hell, even Nori was gobsmacked at his little brother’s row, a part of him actually beaming with pride that Ori had it in him to kick some ass.

“Um…” Dwalin was the first to move a muscle. “You’re uh… you’re right Ori. Yeah, you’re right.”

Ori sighed, knowing Dwalin only said that to break the silence, and possibly try to impress him somehow.

“So?” Ori stood his ground, not caring if Thorin kind of gave him the creeps sometimes, but he was only doing what was right for the mourning man he hardly even knew.

Everyone’s attention settled back to Thorin, who broke all eye contact with Ori. The young artist was right, Thorin knew that, but he just couldn’t bring himself to get up and go to Thranduil, a part of him knowing the other man would chuck him out at the sight of him. Attempting to apologise might just make things worse.

“I can’t.” Thorin barely whispered.

“Why not?” Ori’s voiced. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“I know.” Thorin groaned into his hands. “But I also know it’s pointless, we don’t get along Ori, I doubt he’d want to see my face after that.”

Ori shook his head in disbelief, and before anyone could say another word, he made his way towards the door. Thorin, hearing the movement, looked up at Ori who took one look at them all.

“I’ll go and apologise then, since none of you are brave enough to do it.” He said. “I think it’s ridiculous the way you’re all acting, no matter who the man is, your best friend or your worst enemy, you should always put your feelings aside when someone’s lost a loved one. Thranduil at least deserves an apology and some peace from all this.”

With that said, Ori yanked the door open to the shop, and with no consideration to the door let it slam with a loud bang on his way out. No one said a word, not even Thorin. The tattooist knew that he should have been the one walking out the door, and all he could think was, that he was a coward for not doing so.


	7. Thoughts and Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All hail kick butt Ori.

Ori was now peeved, enough said really. He was seeing red, so angry and disappointed that he wanted to kick that bin bag that was sat outside the grocer’s shop just begging to be bowled over. Never had he felt so irritated that he just wanted to run back to that tattoo parlour and carry on with his little rant, to give Thorin a bit more of what he’d like to say and quite frankly drag him by the ear to the florists. He must have been very angry, because if he wasn’t so he’d be too scared to overstep the tattooist in the first place.

Although, Thorin did look like someone had kicked him in the face when he’d left, not the same grim faced man Ori had met on his first day to the parlour that the artist had just wanted to run away from. But that wasn’t the point. Ori was angry, fuming, restless beyond belief, all because Thorin and his minions wouldn’t go near Thranduil’s shop and just say they were sorry. One harmless word. They were acting like a bunch of kids, scared that Thranduil had coodies or something. It didn’t matter to Ori if they didn’t like each other, or if they didn’t particularly like being near each other, there was no excuse for not apologising for what had been said. Not when Thranduil was in mourning for the loss of someone he obviously loved dearly.

 That’s why Ori had taken it into his own hands. If that bunch of idiots weren’t going to apologise right away for what had been said, then Ori was going to do it for them. He may not know Thranduil, and the florist may not know him, but Ori knew exactly how he must be feeling since the librarian lost his parents at a young age and cried for three months straight. Nobody deserved to feel such pain and sorrow, no one.

As soon as Ori had reached the flower shop across the road, near enough to Bombur’s bakery, he stopped in front of the entrance to take a deep breath before entering the so called danger zone in Nori’s words. The wooden door was decorated beautifully from top to bottom, as if every single leaf pattern and flower were carved by a steady hand, the name of the florist’s which was ‘Mirkwood Petals’ was engraved in the middle in curving writing. The flowers in the windows were the biggest and brightest Ori had ever seen in his entire lifetime. Thranduil must be excellent at his job if those displays were anything to go by.

Judging by the inside he must be more than excellent at what he did. Ori went inside the shop quietly, closing the wooden door behind him as he stared up into the spectacular looking ceiling. Green vines were decorating the roof of the shop, looping in and out of one another from one corner of the room to the next, it looked unreal, it looked like a magical forest was growing inside. Every wall was decorated to look as if you were standing in a mysterious woodland, tall colourful trees reaching up and out, crinkled leaves painted onto the wooden floor, and twirling vines carved into the desk at the back.

Not to mention the flowers themselves. They were just as big as the ones in the windows, including the smallest bouquets. There were crimson red roses, bright yellow sunflowers, striking purple and blue tulips, all mostly tied up in a long silk strip of ribbon. The display in the middle of the shop was eye-catching, a large bundle of colourful flowers were made into the shape of an elk, its antlers reaching out high into the ceiling where it met the dangling vines, it’s feet surrounded by a bed of green leaves and yellow flowers. Ori stared at it in awe.

“May I help you, little man?”

Ori was pulled out of his trance, noticing a tall man standing behind the wooden counter all of a sudden, a wide grin on his undeniably handsome face. He was eccentrically handsome looking, with his slick black hair and bright blue eyes, and the slight beard and moustache that were hard to even notice from afar. Ori’s first thought of the man was that he was friendly, if the smile he was wearing was any hint to go by.

“You alright there? The gigantic moose thing didn’t scare you did it?”

Ori chuckled quietly to himself at the man’s joke, also noticing that the man had an incredibly thick Welsh accent that made him sound totally sociable let alone look it. “No, sorry, I just thought it looked amazing.” Ori soon answered.

The Welshman laughed, his smile reaching his ears. “Not the first time I’ve heard that one, Thranduil does have a talent for creativity.”

Ori’s jaw almost dropped to the floor. “He _made_ this?” He asked in shock.

“Yep,” The guy grinned, seeming proud of the shop owner’s work. “He’s bloody brilliant, made the shape of the animal with some barb wire, and then went at it with all those flowers. He’s like some freaking magic man or something.”

Ori smiled, taking a closer look at the elk and seeing every detail that Thranduil had put into it. From the perfect match of colours to the shape of its eyes and antlers, Thranduil must really have some kind of magical skill to do something so perfect.

“So, would you like to get some flowers for someone?” The man asked with his cheery voice, leaning his elbows on the desk. “Or you could take the moose with you?”

Ori grinned, actually thinking about it. It would look pretty cool in Dori’s room. “Actually, I’ve come to talk with Thranduil. Is he here?”

The Welshman looked taken back by the question, as if Ori had suddenly become someone quite suspicious. But his expression soon changed to one of pure joy once again. “He has friends! Wow, he usually hates the people around here.” He laughed.

Ori made himself laugh along, thinking about the other’s back at the tattoo parlour. Yeah, Thranduil did hate the people around here. But he decided not to say that part out loud.

“I’ll go get him.” The man said, straightening himself up. “THRANDUIL! GET YOUR PRETTY ASS DOWN HERE.”

Obviously when the Welshman said he’d go get him, he actually meant he’d shout loud enough for the shop owner to hear him from the other floor. “He won’t be long.” The employee smiled toothily.

“Thank you.” Ori said.

Thranduil indeed wasn’t very long at all, seconds after the handsome man had practically screamed his lungs out, Thranduil walked out through the door behind the counter and stood beside his friend. Ori felt sorry for the man instantly. He was now dressed down in a baggy jumper and tracksuit bottoms , hair tousled probably from laying down on it, and to top it off he’d obviously been crying. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and his cheeks were stained with tears that he was trying to rub off with the sleeves of his jumper. Thranduil didn’t look like the confident, radiant man that Ori had seen back at the tattoo parlour.

“Are you ok?” His employee went over to him, putting a reassuring arm around him. “You want to go back upstairs? You look like shit.”

 “No, I’m fine.” Thranduil said, his voice barely a whisper as he forced a smile at the other man’s joke. “I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Thranduil smiled more honestly this time, patting the other man’s shoulder gently. “What is it you wanted?”

“Oh.” The Welshman guided Thranduil over to the front of the desk by his arm, and held a hand out to Ori. “This young man, sorry I didn’t catch your name, wanted to see you.”

That’s when Thranduil realised that it wasn’t just him and his employee in the shop. His gaze met Ori’s and his expression turned to one of confusion, and then realisation, and then Ori suddenly felt like he wanted to punch Thorin in the face for not being here to do this. Before Ori was able to give his name the taller man spoke.

“You were at the tattoo parlour.” Thranduil stated with a sour face, recognising Ori instantly from earlier. “You’re _their_ friend.”

All Ori could do was nod slowly, he twiddled with his thumbs, trying to think of something to say. Anything at this point.

“Their friends… as in Thorin Oakenshield’s friend?” The man that was smiling a minute ago, was now eyeing Ori up with a look of bitterness and pure suspicion. “You’re with _them_?”

Ori suddenly felt a little weighed down. “Yes… I’m their friend… I uh… I’m Nori’s brother… But…”

“Get out.” Thranduil’s friend said through clenched teeth. “Get the fuck out kid, I don’t know why you’re here but…”

“Bard.” Thranduil touched a hand to his friend’s shoulder, calming him down in an instant. “Calm down.” He then turned to Ori. “Please, just leave, I don’t have anything to say nor do I want anything to do with any of yo-.”

“No, please.”  Ori let out, not giving up that easy. “I just came here to… apologise.” He took a brave step forward. “I’m not taking anyone’s side, I’m not like them, and honestly I think they’re just being ridiculously silly.”

“Apologise?” The man named Bard snorted. “Wasn’t Thorin and his minions the one who did this to Thranduil?” his voice rose in anger. “The poor guy’s lost his fucking boyfriend, and they said something that made him come back here and lock himself upstairs, he’s been crying his-.”

“Bard, please, just stop.” Thranduil practically begged. “I just want to go back upstairs.” He then turned to Ori. “I don’t know you, so I apologise for asking you to leave. But I don’t think you should be here apologising, when it’s Thorin that should be the one standing in your place.”

“I know.” Ori sighed. “They’re just being idiots. I just felt like I had to apologise, I could see how upset it made you, and I… I really am sorry. I’m sure Thorin is too, they had no idea about your boyfriend,  I’m sure he wanted to be here but… his stupid pride got in the way.”

Thranduil slightly smiled at that. “That’s all it’s ever been about with Thorin. I wouldn’t expect him to say he’s sorry for what he said, even if he didn’t know about it. That’s how it’s always been between us.”

“Of course he wouldn’t apologise.” Bard rolled his eyes. “He’s a dickhead.”

“Listen.” Thranduil said softly. “I’m sure you meant well by coming here, but you shouldn’t have. You’re saying sorry when it had nothing to do with you, and if they really did feel bad for what they said then they would be here. Honestly, I doubt they really are sorry to see me in such pain.”

“They don’t care.” Bard said angrily.

“You should go.” Thranduil told Ori, picking up a book from his desk. “I’m sure they’re worrying if I’m trying to get you on my side or something.”

All Ori could do was nod his head in reply, giving them both a small smile just to show them he had nothing against them. Bard even smiled back this time, his anger visibly directed more at the other men back at the tattoo parlour.

Thranduil didn’t say anything as he made his way back upstairs, hugging the book he held against his chest. Ori could just about make out the quiver in his lips as he went through the door, he was beginning to cry again, and it made Ori’s heart break at the sight. The poor man was in pieces, and he stayed here and locked himself away from world.

“I’ll um…” Ori mumbled as he started walking backwards. “I’ll go then.”

“Yeah.” Bard nodded in agreement. “Hey, I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

Ori stopped. “It’s fine, really. I understand.”

“No, no,” Bard sighed loudly. “It’s just that… Thranduil’s been my best friend for years, and since the accident the other day, he’s just a different man and I’m all he’s got left besides his son. I just don’t like to see him get hurt. I guess I just… lost it… I thought you were you know… like them.”

Ori shook his head. “No, I’m much nicer and far less idiotic.”

Bard laughed cheerfully, his joyful manner raised back to the surface. “I can see that. You seem like a nice kid.”

Ori smiled. “Thank you.” He adjusted the bag over his shoulder, and made a move for the door. “And uh… I am sorry, for what happened.”

“I know.” Bard smiled. “Oh, and what’s your name by the way?”

“It’s Ori.”

“Ah,” Bard nodded, as if thinking over the name in his head. “It’s nice to meet you Ori.”

“You too.”

It was a short time spent at the flower shop, but Ori had done what he had to do, even if Thranduil didn’t believe his apology or believe that Thorin was actually torn up over it. He’d tried, he’d done the right thing and that’s all he could do. Ori sighed as he stepped out of the shop, breathing in the air as if it would make a difference to his mood. Ori had to get Thorin to swallow his pride and apologise.

Thorin and his company were currently sitting in Bombur’s bakery, near enough to the back where they could be away from the other customers. The tattooist’ had decided to still go there for dinner, needing to get out of the parlour for at least a half hour, besides Bombur had set them up a lovely lunch full of sandwiches and cakes. The food was placed on the long table they sat around, everyone helping themselves to what took their fancy.

Thorin wasn’t so hungry as usual, he’d taken to picking at a chocolate cupcake rather slowly. His mind was drifting in and out of thoughts, mainly about a certain florist he’d accidentally upset almost an hour ago. Thorin sighed, he hadn’t meant to say something so cruel that would set Thranduil off, but he hadn’t any idea about what happened to his lover, nor did anyone else. The tattooist still felt like a right idiot though.

“So, that’s when Thranduil had walked out with his kid.”

Dwalin was at the end of telling Bombur, Fili and Kili about what happened not long ago. The two brothers sat on both sides of Thorin, while Bombur sat on a high stool next to Nori. They listened keenly to the account, no one saying a word except for Dwalin.

“He looked pretty damn pissed if you ask me.” Nori said, munching on his tuna sandwich.

“Well I can imagine,” Bombur spoke up, leaning back onto the wall. “Poor man, losing his partner out of the blue.” Bombur shook his head. “I feel so sorry for the guy.”

“Yeah,” Beorn said. “Me too, I’ve never seen him look so… distant.”

“And he just left?” Fili asked, looking at his uncle. Thorin was staring off into space, deep in thought. “Without saying a word back?”

“Of course not,” Dwalin began. “Why would he after what we said, I don’t think he wanted to be around us.”

“Of course he didn’t.” Bombur snorted, rubbing his round belly.

“I wonder if he’s alright now.” Beorn said, sincerity in his quiet voice. “We may not be friends with him, but I do hope he hasn’t been hurt too bad. I mean, what was said didn’t exactly help him.”

“Well,” Bombur sighed, sending Beorn a reassuring smile, the saddened man was the one member of the group who always did have the softest heart, even if he had the worst temper tantrums. “Lucky for you lot, Ori has gone and done your work for you.”

Nori looked on uneasily. “I should have stopped him.”

“Or we should have gone with him.” Dwalin declared, knowing the other’s secretly agreed. “It would have been the ri-..”

Dwalin was cut off by the sound of the bell tinkling above the door. The entire company fell silent as Ori walked in, he was quietly walking towards them with such a blank expression nobody could tell what he was thinking. Bombur greeted him with his usual bubbly welcoming, instantly turning Ori's neutral stare into a smile.  
   
Fili and kili also said their hellos, because they were obviously not guilty of breaking another man down and making everything a lot worse for him. But the others were, and Ori wasn't going to let them off lightly. In fact, he was going to bend the truth a little, but only a little.  
   
"He's breaking down over there, he can't talk because of how upset he is! You guys have made things so much worse for him than they already were!" Ok, so maybe Ori was going to bend the truth more than a little. "You should have seen how sad he was."  
   
With that said, most of it directed at Thorin, Ori took a seat next to Bombur on his stool and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't going for the cute and innocent look, they'd better be afraid, very afraid.   
   
"Uh...," Kili tried breaking the tension, the tattooists looked like they'd been hit in the face at the minute. "What did he say? Is he... Okay?"  
   
Fili looked at his brother as if he'd just asked if the grass was green. "Of course he's not, he's lost a loved one."  
   
Kili looked guiltily at his younger brother, noticing how Fili leaned back in his chair and stared down at his lap. Ori just nodded in agreement with Fili, looking at each and every one of the tattoo artists in turn, hoping he was making them all feel like morons. Because frankly, he wanted to make them feel as terrible as possible. Serves them right for being a bunch of pansies.   
   
Beorn was the first to speak out of the four, figures, he was the wisest one in the parlour too. "We are sorry, we just didn't mean for it to go like it did."  
   
"You got nothing to be sorry for Beorn." Dwalin spoke, meeting Ori's gaze. "The three of us are always the idiots, being childish and making fun of Thranduil."  
   
Ori could see the Scotsman felt guilty, even his voice was quieter than normal. "Why do you argue with him?" Ori asked them all. "He seems like a nice person..."  
   
Nobody expected Thorin to say a word as he was sitting in silence, listening to everything being said and drifting off into his own thoughts. But he was the one to answer Ori's question, because he was the one who got along with Thranduil the least. It was Thorin's family that Thranduil's family had betrayed. It was because of him that the other’s never got along with the florist in the first place.  
   
"The Greenleaf's betrayed my family years ago, when I was just a kid, by leaving them and breaking their trust." Thorin began, his eyes boring a hole into the glass window. "My parents dream was to open a family restaurant in London, as was my grandparents, and Thranduil's parents were going to help them with that." His teeth clenched together in annoyance, remembering his parent's reaction at the thought of it coming true. They’d gotten so excited, so overjoyed by the prospect.  
   
"Thranduil's father was a business investor, his mother had the florist, his grandparents used to own a restaurant, so they promised to help my parents with theirs." Thorin sighed loudly. "After building their hopes, helping them choose the place, the details of the theme, even the name, they left."  
   
Ori looked all around the circle, everyone's expressions turning sour. "Left?"  
   
Thorin nodded. "Thranduil's family left for Scotland, where they opened their own restaurant business. That's where his grandparents stayed, and then Thranduil and his parents returned a couple of years later and opened the florist shop back up. Ignoring our family as if nothing had happened." Thorin clenched his hands into fists. "I was sixteen when they returned, and I saw Thranduil, and hated him as much as I hated his family for doing that to mine. I left London at eighteen just to get away from them for six years."  
   
Ori stared at Thorin in disbelief. "You left because of Thranduil and his family?"  
   
"Yeah," Thorin glanced over at his nephews on both sides of his seat. "I only returned because of the death of my sister."  
   
"Where are your parents now?" Ori asked curiously.  
   
"They passed away." Fili answered, not saying anymore in case it struck a chord in his uncle.  
   
"I'm sorry." Ori said sincerely.  
   
Thorin nodded slowly, eyeing every man sitting around him as they listened intently.   
   
"See now Ori," Nori finally spoke. "That's why we don't get along with Thranduil very well. He's not to be trusted if he's anything like his parents."  
   
"But-," Ori was about to say, but was cut off before he got to the next word.  
   
"We just don't like him Ori," Dwalin said, hoping he hadn't suddenly made the young man change his mind about him from all this. "He's never been friendly to us, probably because that's the way he was brought up."  
   
"His family are liars, end of story." Kili declared, hating the conversation more and more as it went along. He hated having a reminder about how his family's lives came crashing down back then.  
   
"But it's not his fault." Ori said out of the blue, everyone looking up at him in confusion. "It was Thranduil's parents that did that to your family, not Thranduil himself! He was just a kid when it happened right?"  
   
"That's not the point." Nori said. "Thranduil grew up hating Thorin, calling him every name under the sun when he could! He hated Thorin's family and friends like Thorin was the one who betrayed _him_!"  
   
"Well maybe that's because Thranduil had no choice." Ori bit back. "Thranduil's parents could have told him Thorin's family had done the wrong thing, or he could have seen how angry you guys were, or maybe he was just being like that because Thorin was the one who started being mean in the first place."  
   
The bakery went silent. As in every customer around them turned to look at them, since Ori's voice had risen a little louder as he went on. Bombur came to the rescue telling the customers everything was alright, and that they were having a discussion about the latest soap opera on television that involved a man dressed as Spiderman. The chatter around the café soon began again.  
   
"Whatever it is," Beorn said quietly. "I doubt Thranduil really cares, and hates us anyway."  
   
"Yeah," Nori agreed. "He hates us alright."  
   
Ori rolled his eyes. "Well hate you or not, you still need to apologise."  
   
The others gawped at him, including Thorin.  
   
"What?" Ori asked seriously. "You guys ain't getting out of it that easily. He deserves an apology no matter what. He’s lost his partner, he’s a broken man. Do something good and put your bad feelings aside just this once."  
   
Nobody could argue with him, because nobody wanted to admit the younger man was entirely right. One nil to Ori.

For most of their dinner break the men sat in silence. Every now and then Bombur would return to the table after serving, bringing up a random conversation about that film that was on tv last night, or the story on the news about a dog that could sing to a Britney Spears song. He was trying to make a happier atmosphere, bless him, even getting Thorin to laugh at a couple of his silly jokes. But that didn’t stop Thorin from folding in on himself again and again, falling into his own world of thoughts.

Dwalin had scooted a little closer to Ori, who had been eating a rather tasty raspberry cupcake that Fili and Kili had made that morning. The Scotsman seemed to think Ori wouldn’t be happy to speak with him, after all, he’d been a part of what had happened that morning. But thankfully Ori hadn’t turned him away when he’d approached him, telling Dwalin that he still thought the tattooist was interesting enough to talk to. Dwalin had smiled widely, which then only got a dirty look from Nori. Dwalin was just ecstatic that Ori was finally opening up to him.

Fili had disappeared into the kitchen not long ago, leaving Kili to sit with his uncle. Beorn kept Nori’s concentration on anything else but Dwalin flirting with his little brother, it was kind of working, since he was kicking him under the table and throwing napkins at his head. Dirty ones.

It took another three minutes and twenty one seconds exactly for Thorin to move from his seat. He suddenly got up off the chair, yanking his phone out of his pocket. He began to walk to the front of the bakery when Kili called him.

“Thorin? Where are you going?”

Thorin turned to the curious men. “I’m going to make a phone call to Gloin.”

Kili nodded, letting his uncle step outside to make the call. The company looked at one another, not knowing why Gloin had anything to do with anything, or how he could make matters any better. Until it hit Bombur. The fat man leaned over the counter nearby.

“Gloin’s kid.” He told them. “Gimli, he’s in the same class as Thranduil’s child. I remember him telling me once.”

Then everyone understood.

Waiting for Thorin to get off the phone with Gloin, was like waiting for the next meteor to hit the earth and wipe out the latest species on it. He’d taken such a long time that everyone was starting to worry. The tattooist was pacing back and forth in front of the bakery, once and a while stopping to stare down the street as if he’d been told something scandalous. He was obviously looking down the street at Thranduil’s florist.

Nobody was saying a single word, unless it was Bombur who was walking back and forth, tending to customers then asking if Thorin was anywhere near coming back inside. If anything, they had a funny feeling that what happened to Thranduil’s lover was as straight forward as they’d thought. Thorin looked pale; he’d gone from a curious expression to dazed in a mere minute of talking to Gloin.

“I don’t think I want to know what happened.” Ori merely whispered.

“Aye,” Dwalin patted him gently on the shoulder. “Thorin looks like he’s suddenly become ill.”

“Here he comes!” Nori declared, careful not to make any of the customers jump.

Thorin entered the bakery quietly, with his head hung low and his phone held tight in his hands. He shuffled over to his friends, before stopping in front of them and keeping his gaze on the tiled floor.

“What happened?” Kili asked with a soft voice, noticing Fili walking over to stand beside his chair to listen.

Thorin took a deep breath and released with a loud sigh. “Ingwë died in a car crash.” He told them. “He… he went through a red light and… he… he didn’t see the other car. He had no chance of surviving, the car was crushed on impact.”

 “Jesus.” Nori mumbled under his breath.

“Apparently… he had been drinking.” Thorin went on. “Gloin was at his son’s school when Thranduil took his son to school this morning; Gimli told him that Legolas had said Ingwe and Thranduil had been shouting in the house a lot lately. Gloin’s friend from the school had said it was possible he’d driven while drunk because they’d been fighting that night.”

“Shit.” Dwalin curse, everyone looking on in stunned surprise at what Thorin had to say.

Thranduil and Ingwe had always seemed like they had one of those perfect relationships. One were you hold hands while walking down the street, smile at each other from across the road, and greet each other with a firm hug. Nobody had thought otherwise.

Although none of the tattooists had seen Ingwe enter the florist recently, like he usually did to pick Thranduil up or drop in for five minutes. No one had expected the couple to be having troubles with their relationship. It’s not like anyone really gave a damn at the time. But now, thinking of Thranduil losing the man he loved possibly after having a fight that caused Ingwe to get drunk and drive, it made them feel extremely sorry for the man. Thorin’s heart almost broke as Gloin had told him, because the last words that the couple might have said to each other could have been dreadful ones.

“Don’t go telling anyone else.” Thorin said to them, as the company went silent, trapped in their own thoughts. “It’s bad enough that so many people know half the story as it is. We don’t know the actual facts.”

Everyone nodded, seeming to be in their own world. Even Bombur was sitting down in his seat again, having heard the news and let himself fall helplessly into the chair. Thorin sat back down into his previous chair, throwing his phone down onto the table.

“Here,” Bombur rose slowly from his seat. “Let me grab you lot some tea, before you go back to work.”

“Thanks Bombur.” Beorn said, sending him a grateful smile.

That’s how they spent the next fifteen minutes of their dinner break. Nobody had said much, only muttered a few things about their next customers, what the weather was looking like for the rest of the day, and only twice did anyone bring up anything to do with Thranduil which had them thinking about that apology they owed him. No one wanted to mention it, they felt like it was something secret that they shouldn’t even know.

As the afternoon ticked by the tattoo team made their way back to the shop, as Ori made his way down the road to the museum he so desperately didn’t want to get to. Kili and Bombur cleaned up the mess in the front, binning the leftovers and recycling the cardboard plates that Bombur made sure would be chucked into the right bin at all times. That left Fili to go to the back of the bakery to start on some more sandwiches, since the party of tattooists seemed to have had a large appetite that day.

The dinner rush had seemed to disappear as quickly as it emerged; only three tables were occupied by fortunately a bunch of rather quiet customers. It didn’t take long for Bombur and Kili to tidy up, both of them going about doing their job without so much as two words spoken. Both men were still thinking about the incident that Thorin had shared not long ago.

Kili in particular hadn’t let it slip his mind. The mere mention of someone getting involved in a car accident, in any way, had him thinking about the loss of his own parents. His mother and stepfather had passed away when Fili and he were young kids, but the hurt was always there, and the vacant memories of them never left either.

When Kili went to the back of the bakery, where Fili was supposed to be baking more sponge cake, he didn’t expect not to find him there. As he looked around the baking room and made his way to the storage closet, he found him, sitting on the stone cold floor with his legs tucked in and his head resting on his knees. Kili quickly got down on the ground next to him, reaching out warily with his hand.

“Fili?” he all but whispered to his brother, before putting his hand gently on his shoulder. Thankfully Fili didn’t flinch or smack his hand away like he expected.

His younger brother lifted his head up, looking straight at Kili with teary eyes. He had been crying, for some time judging by the dried up tears that ran down his reddened cheeks, and the wet patches along the sleeve of his jumper.  Kili’s insides turned cold at the thought of his dearest brother looking so fragile, he seemed so vulnerable curled up in a ball on the floor, like he did when he was a small child.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about them.” Fili let out through a dried throat. “All I saw was them in my head… when Thorin was saying about… about Thranduil’s partner it… it just made me think of them.”

Kili nodded in response, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around Fili and tell him everything was going to be okay, that he was here and he would stay with him until he felt like getting up. But all Kili could do was give his shoulder a tight squeeze.

“I thought of them too.” Kili said.

“You did?” Fili asked softly.

“Yeah.”

“I… I miss them Ki.”

“Me too Fi,” Kili could feel himself tremble at the memory of the tragic day. “But we promised them we’d be strong, remember? Weeks after the accident we went to the garden, and told them in the sky that we’d grow up to be brave and strong men.”

Fili laughed a little, wiping away a single tear that escaped down his cheek. “Yeah. I’m still working on the strong part.”

Kili smiled sadly. “You _are_ strong Fili, you’ve pulled me through my worst days more times than I can count.”

Fili snuffled quietly as he ran a hand through his hair, and startling Kili he put a hand on top of the one on his shoulder. “Looks like we’re more alike than Thorin had thought.”

“Yeah.” Kili managed to breathe out.

Fili put on a small smile and looked at Kili with watery eyes, before he surprised him once more when he said, “I know you’re scared shitless to go near me these days, but I really do want a hug right now.”

Kili couldn’t help the smile that fixed his lips, and without a word he sat his bottom on the floor and leant back against the wall. Opening his arms Kili let Fili fall into them, and together they wrapped each other up in a tight hug that Kili had missed more than he would admit out loud. Fili hadn’t hugged him in this way for so long, his arms enveloped around him comfortingly with his head resting on Kili’s shoulder. But for now, Kili didn’t say a word, he didn’t want to think that Fili would forget about it the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bard! Whoo! 
> 
> I know.. I hate myself for doing this to Thranduil, but it must be done for Thorinduil's sake!   
> And I promise there will be much more Ori/Dwalin to come! Thorin/Thranduil will take much longer but it will get there and it'll all be worth it! :)


	8. Forgiving and Forgetting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is finally noticing his mistakes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... I just wrote this in three days... that's a record!

A weekend off? Who’d have known those actually existed! Ori had just thought they were those made up times that you see on television or some kind of miracle that some people were lucky to get. But not this time, Ori had the weekend off himself. A whole weekend, an entire two days of doing nothing. Two days of walking around the house in a pair of baggy joggers and a t-shirt that stuck to his sides, while blasting a load of ridiculous music that old people listen to when they feel like getting up to dance like they were eighteen again.

That’s exactly what he was doing at that moment. It was Saturday, his first day off, and he couldn’t care less if his neighbours could hear the forties music blaring from his iPod dock, or the fact that the kitchen looked like the oven had exploded and made one hell of a mess. Not to mention Dori was in the next room, and he had told Ori to do whatever he wanted since he deserved it after a hard week of work. He’d take what he’d been given, it wasn’t everyday Dori didn’t give a damn that his kitchen was being trashed.

Ori would clean it up after all. He’d taken to baking twenty four cupcakes, half chocolate and half vanilla. He remembered baking with his brothers when he was a young boy, it used to be his favourite time of the weekend where he’d get to cook whatever tickled their fancy at the time. Nori would usually make the most mess, especially when he’d try and reach over to lick the spoon that Dori was trying to get away from him, but Nori always got to it. Letting bags of flour and a few eggs drop to the floor in the process. Dori would make him clean every spot of it up whilst the food cooked, and Ori always snuck back into the kitchen to help.

Ori chuckled at the memories, picking up the metal tray of twelve chocolate cupcakes and chucking them carefully onto the bottom shelf of the hot oven. The young artist grabbed the timer and set it to twenty minutes, before beginning his clear up of all the spoons and egg shells, mixing bowls and dishes. If there was a boring part to baking, then this would be it.

“Ori! Turn that music down before Mr. Randolph comes over in a bad mood!”

Dori’s voice called from the living room. Ori rolled his eyes, so much for him getting to do what he wanted. “It’s not like Mr. Randolph isn’t always in a bad mood.” He muttered.

Ori turned down the old fashioned music a tad, and began picking up the dirty dishes. That was until his phone bleeped and he put everything down in an instant. It was exactly who Ori thought it would be, since they’d been texting each other all morning.

Dwalin’s name popped up onto the screen, with that smiley face right next to it that Dwalin had put on there himself. Ori grinned cheerfully, jumping up onto the worktop as he opened up the message. They’d been talking a lot about Thorin that morning, since Dwalin had never been so worried about his close friend before. It had been a week since the incident with Thranduil, and nobody had really mentioned the event since then. Ori was still trying to push Nori to get Thorin to go over to the florist, but the man would grunt and walk away.

None of them wanted to make Thorin do anything he wasn’t ready for, but then they had all agreed in the end that it was just him being too proud of his family name to even try. Fili and Kili had even tried, they’d volunteered to go with him to apologise, which Thorin thought was ridiculous because they hadn’t even done anything. So to no avail, Thorin wasn’t going to make a move anytime soon. Ori just hoped he was just thinking it through first, maybe deciding what he was going to say. A guy could only hope.

Ori sighed loudly, swinging his legs back and forth on the counter. He read Dwalin’s message and was happy to know that Thorin had finally made an appearance after locking himself upstairs all morning.

_‘Looks like moody git has made it into the real world. About bloody time too! Beorn’s giving him a lecture on why he’s got to stop being such a woman.’_

Ori chuckled and text back: ‘ _Well he has to man up and get his butt over there! It’s been a week!’_

_‘I know, we’ve all told him we’d go with him now, but he said he’s the one that’s in the wrong and not us…’_

Ori rolled his eyes. ‘ _Then he should stop being a moody woman… Beorn’s got a point.’_

 _‘Haha! Let’s hope Beorn gets his claws out and get’s Thorin over there… oh and look, he’s gone back upstairs again!’_ Dwalin said, his first comment made Ori curious about what Beorn actually looked like when he got fierce.

‘ _I really want to see Beorn the Bear. Who is this character you all keep telling me about?’_

_‘I’ll have to get him angry for you one day :P’_

Ori snickered. ‘ _As long as he doesn’t hurt you, I’m ok with that! :D’_

Ori smiled as he hit send, hoping he didn’t sound a little too flirty. Was it even flirting? He had no idea. The most flirting he’d ever done in his lifetime was repeating a script out of a romance movie, which he didn’t even find that romantic. He couldn’t even tell when Dwalin was being flirty. Dwalin didn’t text back right away either, so that made Ori panic a little, just a little.

The artist almost jumped out of his skin when his phone vibrated in his hand, he caught himself just in time before he slipped off of the worktop. He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding, and shuffled back into his comfortable position. He hoped that Dwalin didn’t find that text a bit weird, because Ori almost hit himself for hitting send, he opened up the message that the Scotsman had just sent.

_‘Hey Ori, I’m sorry to change subject on ye but… I was wondering… are you free tomorrow evening?’_

Ori stared and stared down at the screen, beginning to think if he bore into it any longer a large hole would start to form. The confused man read the message over and over until the words started to blur into one another, and his heart began beating fast. Is he going to ask what Ori thinks he’s about to ask?

So Ori found out. _‘Yes, I’m free all day.’_

Then Dwalin text back. ‘ _Would you like to go out on a date with me?’_

Ori’s jaw almost dropped to the floor. He _was_ asking what Ori thought he was going to ask. Holy hell, Dwalin, the full of huge muscles and tattoos, hot tempered, talkative, and very evidently handsome Scotsman was asking him out on a _date_! Him, he was asking him, Ori, the shy, skinny boy that likes to hide away in his room and read books, and has a thing for drawing everything he sees and only speaks out when people make him mad. Ori’s lips split into the biggest grin.

“Oh my god.” He almost screamed in surprise. “He’s asking me out, he’s asking me out.”

Ori jumped off of the countertop and almost lost balance as one of his feet slipped on the tiled floor. It didn’t stop him from getting all excited and start waving his phone in the air, knowing he probably looked like a complete idiot and Dori would think he’d lost his marbles.

“Shit!” Ori cursed under his breath, realising he’d taken three minutes to lose himself rather than text Dwalin back.

With shaky fingers he typed back one word. ‘ _Yes_ __

Seconds later his phone buzzed. ‘ _Good :D pick you up at six tomorrow night?’_

Ori grinned madly. ‘ _I’m looking forward to it!’_

_‘So am I darling_ __

Ori’s heart almost melted at the nickname, as cheesy at it sounded. He started jumping up and down like a crazed kangaroo, getting as excited as a teenager on his first ever date. Dwalin was taking him on a date, the man that he’d become so close to in the last week just by talking to him, that he felt over the moon and so happy that his jaw was starting to hurt from too much smiling.

“What _are_ you doing?”

Ori stopped jumping, and smiled innocently at Dori who walked in to put the kettle on. “The new episode of Casualty is out tonight.” He didn’t even watch that show.

“I thought you didn’t watch that show?” Dori asked, reaching into the cupboard for a cup.

Ori shrugged. “It’s an Australian show.” He lied.

“Oh.” Dori hummed, tapping his fingers on the counter to the music still playing. “Would you like some tea, dear?”

Ori smiled sweetly, leaning over to give his older brother a kiss on the cheek. “Yes please.”

Dori gave Ori a suspicious look, but pulled out an extra mug anyway. “You’re way too happy over a show.”

“It’s a good show.” Ori chuckled, skipping to the fridge to retrieve the milk. There was no way in hell Ori was going to tell Dori about the truth behind his cheerfulness, for one Dori was protective of his little brother, and the other, Dori absolutely hated Dwalin.

*****

“What are you so happy about, you weirdo?”

Dwalin was hit in the back of the head by something. And that something was thrown _hard_. “What the fuck?” He turned around to see Nori, sitting by his station holding a packet of skittles with a not so innocent grin. “None of your business.”

Dwalin smirked as Nori’s eyebrows knit together in a suspicious frown. “Those texts better not have been from my little brother.” He warned, aiming another red skittle right at Dwalin’s forehead.

“Don’t be daft.” Dwalin outright lied, like hell he was going to tell Nori he’d been texting Ori for over an hour. “It’s Balin, he just told me he’s made me some chocolate brownies.”

Nori snorted. “Wow, if you get this happy over chocolate brownies, I don’t want to see your reaction to Dori’s homemade Victoria sponge, fucking delicious. One thing that idiot is good for, ey.”

Dwalin chuckled deeply, stuffing his phone back into his pocket so that Nori wouldn’t get all questioning and maybe thieve it from him… again. Luckily he’d finished his conversation with Ori, letting the younger man go back to his cupcakes that he sounded eager about. He couldn’t wait to taste one.

Dwalin was outright cheery since talking to Ori. Not to mention he’d gone and finally asked him out on that date he’d wanted to take him on for days now, and Ori had said yes. Dwalin was growing so fond of the artist that he couldn’t stop thinking about him day after day, wanting nothing but to take him out and talk to him for hours on end about everything and anything under the sky. Sure they’d been talking a lot since they’d met, but that was either around the others or by text. He couldn’t wait to finally have some alone time with Ori.

Dwalin smiled happily as he sat back in his chair, sorting out the needles for his next customer that was due real soon. Thankfully, Nori had turned his back on him to sort out the red skittles from the purple skittles on the counter, now he couldn’t see the dopy smile that Dwalin couldn’t get rid of. Ori must be someone real special to make Dwalin feel so week in the knees.

“Oi!” Nori shouted at Dwalin, gaining his full attention. “Don’t make me waste one of my purple skittles on you! Your customer’s here.”

Dwalin rolled his eyes, before picking up a roll of kitchen roll and throwing it right at Nori’s crotch, luckily it just hit his thigh. “Fuck off.” Nori pocked out his tongue before returning to his skittle count.

“Yes, go on through.” Beorn told Dwalin’s customer by the front desk.

Beorn was having a shitty day. Not just a shitty day, but a _really_ shitty day. He’d gotten drenched early in the morning trying to take the bins out, his car had been pooped on by around six birds, and old lady had told him he looked angrier than a pit-bull, and now his god damn pen wasn’t working. Oh, and he’d practically yelled at Thorin a few minutes earlier for being such a coward, hiding away upstairs from life’s good old problems.

Beorn sighed heavily, scribbling the pen across a blank piece of paper. Still wasn’t working. So without anymore complaint he threw the damn thing into the bin. Serves it right for running out on him when he had important crap to write down, fortunately his other pens weren’t so selfish.  Talking of selfish, there was Thorin. Yes, that man who couldn’t swallow his damn pride and march over to the florist. What was he afraid of, getting struck by a load of shooting arrows for stepping into forbidden territory?

“What you thinking Beorn?” Nori called from the other side of the parlour. “And you can stop stabbing the desk now; I think it’s had enough days of torture from you.”

 “Funny.” Beorn growled, scribbling a big zig zag across the page. “I’d like to stab Thorin with it, but I’m sure the desk is more appropriate.”

Nori sniggered loudly. “You got another bout of anger coming along?”

“We’d better hide.” Dwalin mumbled from beside Nori.

“Shut the fuck up.” Beorn tossed a pen their way, knocking one of Nori’s skittles to the floor. He didn’t look very impressed. “Damn it all, I’m going to get that son of a bitch to go over there, right _now_!”

“Oh, really?” Nori stood up quickly, stuffing a load of skittles into his mouth at once. “Can I come see?”

“Sit down!” Beorn bellowed as he made his way to the stairs. “You’ve got a client in five.”

Nori sat back in his chair and pouted like a five year old child. Dwalin snickered amusedly, getting another skittle to the head. This time it was an orange one. There was no way Nori was wasting another red one.

Thorin, meanwhile, was laying across the comfortable black sofa situated in the living room upstairs. It wasn’t much of an upstairs. Just a room the same size as the one downstairs, with a small kitchen, a television, a sofa and some chairs about the place, it was more like one of those hang out rooms you get at University. The place was relaxing enough for Thorin to sleep in, and that’s exactly what he was going to do. Forget the world outside, and forget the problems he had, and forget every damn person that existed. He was going to sleep.

“Oi!”

Thorin sighed loudly, putting his arm across his eyes to block out the light. “Go away Beorn.”

“No!” Beorn growled deeply, shutting the door behind him with a slam. “Right, get up, you’re going over to Thranduil’s flower shop.”

Thorin’s arm flung itself to the side, and he shot up into a sitting position. “What?”

“Now,” Beorn crossed his arms over his chest, he meant business. “You’ve got to stop being so damn stubborn, that man has been through hell losing a loved one, and you need to help him get through it as much as everyone else does. Put your childish disputes behind you, and do the right thing.”

Thorin sighed, rubbing a hand down his face roughly. “I’ve had this lecture already Beorn.” He said quietly, letting his hands fall on to his lap, as he stared at a patch of carpet by his foot.

“And you’ll be bloody getting it all the time if you don’t man up and fucking do something!” Beorn almost screamed out, he was getting irritated by the second. But deciding to take a different angle, Beorn took a deep breath and said calmly, “Thorin, tell me, honestly. Why is it so hard for you to apologise to him?”

Thorin could hear the pitiful tone in Beorn’s voice, could tell he just wanted this to be over and move on. The tattooist always knew Beorn had a good heart. “I don’t know.” Thorin whispered. “I just… I guess I’m scared.”

Beorn looked on in confusion, before taking a seat beside his friend. “Scared? What of?”

Thorin shrugged. He didn’t know why he was telling Beorn this, why he was opening up to someone at last, but it just felt right after all the thinking he’d been doing. Since the incident happened, all he’d been thinking was _how_ was he going to apologise to Thranduil. From what he’d heard the man was broken, devastated, changed in more ways than one, and it reminded Thorin of himself.

 “My sister.” He said. “It reminds me of her.”

Beorn understood immediately. “Car crash?”

“Yeah.” Thorin sighed. “It just… it reminds me of when they died and… for me to do that to Thranduil it just… I feel so fucking disgusted in myself. I know exactly what he’s going through and… I-I made it worse by disrespecting his partner like that. I’m afraid that he won’t forgive me, that I won’t have a chance to help him.”

“You want to help him?” Beorn asked in surprise.

Thorin nodded slowly. “I… I feel like I have to. He’s going through the exact same thing that I went through years ago. I just… I want to make sure he gets through it. Even if he doesn’t want me near him, even if we don’t get along even _he_ doesn’t deserve what he’s going through. It’s what I’ve been thinking about all week.”

“Oh, Thorin.” Beorn sighed, putting a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. “That’s a lovely thing to say.  I didn’t thin-,”

“You didn’t think I’d be so nice?” Thorin smirked cheekily. “That’s what everyone’s thinking Beorn.”

Beorn chuckled softly, patting Thorin’s shoulder. “Well, can you blame them?”

“No,” Thorin said. “I have been a dickhead. I just wanted some time to think things over, to just figure out what to say to Thranduil. I’ve been selfish I know, I’m sorry.”

Beorn shrugged. “It’s not me you should be apologising to Thorin, and it’s not the boys.”

“I know.” Thorin heaved a sigh. “That’s why I’m going to go over there now.” Forget sleep, Beorn was right and it was about time he got up and did something about it.

Beorn’s eyes widened in astonishment, he earned a small laugh from Thorin who found it quite entertaining. “You are?”

“Yes.” Thorin said. “Like you said Beorn, I need to put disputes aside for now, and just do the right thing. It may have taken me days to figure it out, but I’ve finally come to my senses.”

“Oh!” Beorn exhaled loudly. “Thank fucking Christ!”

Thorin chuckled as Beorn slid down the sofa, and flung his arms in the air. Suddenly, Thorin felt a lot better than he had minutes ago.

“Where are _you_ going?” Nori asked Thorin as he came downstairs with Beorn in tow. “Why’ve you got your jacket on?”

“I’m going to see Thranduil.” Was Thorin’s simple answer.

Nori gave such a hilarious confused expression that it was hard not to laugh, and Dwalin was close enough to being the same way. He’d suddenly stopped tattooing his customer, who gave them a look as if saying they were some seriously screwed up tattooists. They looked as if they didn’t believe a word he was saying, Beorn would have to deal with them for now.

Before any of them could ask questions or become nosier than a bunch of old women on the street, Thorin was out of there as quick as his feet could take him. Thankfully Beorn was there to shut Nori up with one of his stony glares, and to tell Dwalin’s customer to punch him in the face if he doesn’t finish his tattoo anytime soon. So they both didn’t ask questions, they’d probably be nagging Thorin later on anyway.

Walking across the road towards Mirkwood Petals was like walking to his death. Thorin hadn’t felt so nervous since his exams back in school, or the time he took his driving test. His heart beat uncontrollably fast, he could feel the thumping against his chest as if it was mocking him, making him feel all wobbly in the legs as he took each step. It wasn’t helping that the wind was absolutely freezing and made his entire body shiver under its cold hands.

He took his time to walk up the path, just yards away from the florist. The tattooist hoped the fresh air would knock a bit of courage into him, but nothing seemed to be helping, not even his own thoughts that were telling him to be a god damn man and stop with all the anxiety. Thorin shook his head, maybe giving himself advice wasn’t the best idea. It never helped before.

As Thorin reached the wooden doors to Thranduil’s florist, he came to a dead stop and took a proper look at it. He’d never been so close to the flower shop before, not even when he was a child, and even he would admit that the door was carved beautifully with its patterns. Before he entered he took one last deep breath, and reaching out to take a hold of the metal handle he pushed the wooden door open.

What greeted him was different to what he’d first imagined. The entire inside was like a mysterious, enchanted forest, from the trees to the vines and the giant elk in the middle of the room. Thorin stared in awe at the wonderful exterior, noticing how the flowers blended into the forest theme, making it look like they were blooming from the floor itself. Thorin wouldn’t say it out loud, but Thranduil had some bloody good talent.

“What the _fuck_?”

Thorin flinched as someone practically shrieked so loudly it could have cracked the windows. He looked over towards the desk to find Thranduil’s friend standing behind it, a look of such loathing that Thorin could swear that he was trying to kill him with it if he could. Thorin took a couple of steps forward without thought, stopping immediately as Bard held up his hands.

“What the fuck are _you_ doing here?” He said through gritted teeth.

Thorin suddenly felt like he was under a hell of a lot of pressure, and his throat had gone dry out of the blue. His only answer was, “I’ve come to see Thranduil.”

Bard started laughing, laughing at him not with him. Obviously he found Thorin’s answer quite hilarious. “What the hell would you want to see Thranduil for? To make a joke about his boyfriend again?”

Thorin cringed at the horrid relation. “I’ve… I’ve come to apologise. Please, could you get him for m-”

“Apologise?” Bard bellowed. “You’ve come here to _apologise_?” Before he could stop himself, Bard had completely lost it. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too fucking _late_ for that? It’s been over a _week_! Thranduil’s broken, completely broken, he’s been coming to work just to lock himself upstairs all day because all he can think of is the accident, and you go and make it worse! And _now_ you come and say you’re sorry?”

Thorin didn’t know what to say to that. Especially since Bard was right, he did make things a little worse for Thranduil, and he did take way too long to at least try and make things better. “I know, I know I’ve made a big mistake but-,”

“Stop your bullshit!” Bard barked, slamming his hands onto the counter.

“Bard?”

Both men turned their heads towards a quiet voice that came from the back room door. Thranduil emerged from the room, eyes downcast as he walked slowly through the threshold. Thorin’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of the younger man, he didn’t look at all like the tall, confident, elegant man that he always came across. He wore a jumper that was too big for him, his fringe was falling down into his face, and his eyes were so red that you could tell he had been crying more than once already.

Thorin noticed the way he had slid the long sleeves of the jumper over his hands, and picked at the edges with his fingers as he walked. It wasn’t like him at all, and the tattooist felt so sorry for him that Thorin couldn’t even dislike him anymore. All he could think about was that he had lost his way since the accident, and Thorin had been exactly the same way.

It didn’t take long for Thranduil to notice his presence. The florist’s gaze lifted from the floor, and caught a hold of Thorin standing there. Thranduil’s eyes widened in downright surprise. “What are you doing here?” he asked with a quiet voice.

Thorin swallowed the lump in his throat, keeping his eyes fixed on the other man. It was now or never. “I want to apologise for… for what happened last week.”

Thranduil was silent, dead silent. That was much worse than getting angry, or shouting in Thorin’s face. He didn’t move his stare away from the tattooist in front of him, eyeing him up with suspicion; Bard was the one to speak for him. “You’ve had your chance, now get the fuck out.” It came out with such a venomous tone that Thorin winced.

“Bard.” Thranduil’s croaky voice sounded, he turned towards his friend to address him. “Please, could you go finish the flowers for this morning’s order?”

“But-,”

“Please?” Thranduil put a hand on his friend’s arm to reassure him he’d be alright. “It’s ok.”

Bard nodded in reply. Taking one last look at Thorin, making sure he sent him the most disgusted look he could muster, Bard made his way to the back room that hid through an arch behind the counter. Thranduil and Thorin were left alone. Something they both thought would never happen, especially in these sorts of circumstances.

“Well,” Thranduil barely whispered, crossing his arms across his chest. “Say what you have to say.”

“You’re letting me speak?” Thorin asked, he was surprised in the first place that the florist hadn’t told him to get out sooner, even telling his close friend to leave when he was only trying to help.

“Yes,” Thranduil simply said. “I want to know what you’ve got to say.”

Thorin inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry.” He let out, which was easier than he’d supposed. “I know I… I should have said sorry a while ago, but I was… I didn’t know how to tell you, it was an awful thing to say and I know how much it upset you… I really am sorry, I-,”

“That’s enough.” Thranduil cut across. “I forgive you.”

“But-,” Thorin stopped himself from going further, as Thranduil’s words sunk in. Did he just say what he thought he said? “You _what_?”

 “I forgive you.” Thranduil repeated, unfolding his arms to pick up a silky, green ribbon that sat on the counter. “You can go now.”

“But,” Thorin couldn’t believe his ears, he moved forward, arms flying in the air without his control. “I don’t understand, I hardly said anything that would make you for-,”

“You said you were sorry did you not?” Thranduil said, holding the ribbon between his hands.

“Yes.”

“Then that’s all I needed to hear.” Thranduil made his way behind the counter, picking up a pair of white roses.

“How… why have you forgiven me so easily? You said you wanted to hear what I had to say,” Thorin was so confused at this point that he didn’t care how close he got, watching Thranduil as he trimmed down the stems of the roses with a clipper. “Why would you forgive _me_ so easily? You bloody hate me.”

Thranduil sighed softly, putting down the flowers that were in his hands. He looked up at Thorin, and stared him in the eyes. “You said what you had to say, which was sorry, and that’s all I needed to hear. I don’t need this shit right now, okay? After everything that’s happened, I just don’t need this _stupid_ thing that’s happened between us to make things worse, so basically, I couldn’t care less anymore now that you’ve apologised. I just want to forget you even said anything! So please, Thorin Oakenshield, get the hell out because I can’t deal with this as well as losing Ingwe.”

Thorin was struck speechless. Out of all the ways he’d thought up on how Thranduil would react, this was the last thing on his mind. The older man thought Thranduil would start lecturing him on being a complete dickhead, or start shoving him out the door. He couldn’t think of what to say back, he could see the seriousness in Thranduil as he’d said it, the blank stare he had in his deep blue eyes.

“Just go.” Thranduil said, looking away from Thorin as he started making his way to the door that led upstairs.

“Wait,” Thorin wanted to slap himself for not listening and just heading out the damn front door. “So that’s it, you forgive me and we just move on just like that?”

Thranduil sighed distressingly, opening the door. “Yes, now get the hell out before I actually consider getting Bard to throw you out.”

That’s all he had to say before he went through the door, ignoring anything else that Thorin wanted to add. Thranduil disappeared up the stairs, not making a sound with his light footsteps. The tattooist stood there silently, eyes stuck on the door as it swung shut on its own accord, not knowing whether he should just leave or at least leave a note of some kind. But then he thought a note was a stupid idea. What would he write? _I’m sorry again, cheer up!_ That would be a smooth move.

So all Thorin could do was turn around and head for the door. He walked slowly out into the open, taking in a deep breath of fresh air as the cold hit him. For some strange reason it felt as though none of that had even happened, it went so fast that it didn’t seem real, like Thranduil hadn’t even talked to him. He wasn’t expecting the younger man to forgive him either.

What he’d said had made him think. Thranduil didn’t need any of this in his life at the moment, nothing to remind him of the death of his lover, everybody to leave him alone and mourn in peace, nobody talking about him behind his back about what had happened on that eventful day or make up stories when they didn’t even know the truth behind it all. Thorin sighed, the florist was right; he didn’t need all that bullshit on top of everything else.

Thorin didn’t go straight back to the tattoo parlour, he wasn’t ready to deal with Nori’s nosy self or Dwalin bombarding him with a load of questions. He was sure Beorn would understand, he would have to get him to shut the two of them up when he got back. Instead, for now, he made his way over to Bombur’s bakery down the road. He had a couple of minutes to think for himself before he got there, stepping into the cheery bakery and into the warmth of the big space.

“Thorin!” Bombur greeted him joyfully, opening his arms to bring the smaller man into a big hug. “What brings you here? It’s already been dinner time.”

Thorin grinned, the baker’s smile more contagious that he knew. “I was just coming in to see Fili and Kili, my next customer’s not for another hour.” He didn’t mention anything about Thranduil.

“Oh, it’s alright for some.” Bombur winked with a chortle, he pushed Thorin gently towards the back of the counter. “They’re baking up some bread in the back; just make sure they’re doing their job.” He joked, before practically skipping back to a customer that was waiting by the till.

Thorin smiled gratefully at Bombur, sending him a small wave before going through the back door to the cooking room. When he got inside he saw that Kili was on one side of the metal table that lay in the middle of the room, and Fili was on the other, both covered in more flour than Thorin would have thought necessary for baking bread. The two seemed to be deep into what they were doing, Kili was preparing the dough by the looks of things, and Fili was chucking the ingredients in a bowl and mixing with the biggest wooden spoon Thorin had ever seen.

Thorin hoped they still weren’t ignoring each other, he hadn’t noticed lately if they had been or not. Usually Kili would be over a friend’s house while Fili was locked in his room at home. Whatever was going on, Thorin was ready to knock their heads together. Really hard.

“Thorin?”

Kili stopped kneading the thick dough between his hands, noticing his uncle standing in the closed doorway. Fili, hearing his brother speak, also looked up with a taken aback expression. Thorin laughed quietly, you’d have sworn the two brothers had looked up to find an alien standing there by their shocked faces.

“What?” Thorin asked. “Have I got something on my face?”

They both laughed, suddenly putting a stop to their work. Then Fili said, “What are you doing here? It’s unusual for you to visit us at work unless you’re hungry. Or… you’ve brought us a present?”

Thorin grinned, taking a seat on the high stool nearby. “Well, I’m not hungry you’d be pleased to know, and no, no gift giving for you two today, wait until your birthdays. But I do need to talk to you about something.” Then he added after a pause. “And don’t stop the jobs you’re doing, Bombur will cut off your hands.”

The brothers shared a smile with their uncle, both going back to preparing the bread. “So, what do you want to talk to us about?” Kili asked, feeling rather suspicious. He was hoping it wasn’t to do with Fili and himself, it was bad enough that he was trying so hard to get things back to normal as it was.

Thorin shrugged, placing his hands on the metal table and starting to twiddle his thumbs. He didn’t know how to start, how he was going to go about it, so he just went in for the kill. If anything, the boys would let him talk and not ask questions.

“I think we should stop pestering Thranduil, and help if we can.” He said, watching out for any change in the brother’s body language. “I mean… he’s broken down, he’s going through hell, and I don’t think it’s fair to carry on the way we are. We should respect him by leaving him be and if he needs anything then… we should try to help… if he doesn’t tell us to bugger off. I did apologise but… I don’t know if it really mattered.”

Fili and Kili shared a look for a second, before Kili was the one to speak. “You apologised?” was all he said.

Thorin was expecting at least a lecture. “Uh… yes. I just came from there.”

“We’re proud of you uncle.” Fili said with a wide smile. “You did the right thing.”

“Yeah,” Kili agreed, a smile spreading across his face. “Good job.”

“Yeah well, I tried but he didn’t seem to care about that as much as I thought.” Thorin sighed, putting up his hand as Fili was about to say something. “Don’t ask, anyway, what do you boys think about-,”

“Being nice to Thranduil?” Kili cut across with a cheeky grin. “I can be nice.”

Fili rolled his eyes. “We agree with you uncle, we actually talked about it ourselves.”

Thorin looked at them questioningly. Kili picked up the blob of dough he had sitting on the counter in front of him, making his way towards the baking stove. Fili carried on talking at the nod from Thorin to keep going.

“Well, Kili and I were just discussing it actually.” He said, his voice lowering a little. “We were just thinking about… how it affected us when… when mum and dad passed away.”

Thorin lifted his head up to look at his youngest nephew, noticing how he’d stopped mixing the ingredients in the large bowl. Kili too noticed, as soon as he’d gotten the bread into the oven he made his way back towards Fili, standing beside him and touching his arm gently. Thorin could have sworn Fili flinched at the touch, but made no question about it.

Kili kept his hand in place, wanting to comfort his brother. “We just talked about what we went through after they died.” He said. “You know… life changed dramatically for us, for you too, and it was hard. We pulled each other through, and our friends helped us more than we could thank them for.”

“That’s why we think we should forget about our families past with his family.” Fili finished for his older brother. “It’s for Thranduil’s sake, and his sons, because we know how he’s feeling and he needs as much support as he can get.”

“And the whole argument thing between our family and his is a load of bollocks anyway.” Kili said with a shrug.

Thorin stared at his nephews in bemusement, they’d just said everything that Thorin had been thinking about for days, they’d hit the nail on the head just like that. “You boys are wonderful, you know that?”

Fili and Kili broke out into smiles. “Duh.” Kili grinned cheekily, making his way over to his station once again.

“We’re not as stupid as we were as kids you know.” Fili said. “We are adults now.”

Thorin sighed heavily. “Yes, unfortunately. I liked you two better as kids. You weren’t so… smart.”

“Oi!” Kili threw the closest thing to him at his uncle, which just happened to be a whisk.

“Ouch!” Thorin tried to duck but Kili was just too fast for him, the whisk hit him square in the face, earning a laugh from Fili. “You bastard.”

Kili grinned happily, one reason being he’d just gotten away with throwing an object at his uncle, and the other because he’d actually made Fili laugh. He’d have to throw more stuff at his uncle more often.

“Right,” Thorin said, standing from the stool. “So, we agree that we should… at least try and leave Thranduil be from the whole…”

“Bickering?” Fili filled in.

“Bullshitting.” Kili added.

Then Fili said. “Total childish behaviour.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “Alright, I get it.”

“Good.” Fili smiled widely.

Thorin chuckled softly, leaning over to ruffle up his younger nephew’s hair. That earned him a loud groan from Fili, who pushed his hand away with force. Thorin grinned at his pouting lips, reminding him of many times Fili had pouted as a kid when Thorin had taken away his ice cream.

“I’ll see you boys later; we can talk more about it at home.” He said, as he made his way out. “Don’t forget, I got a day off tomorrow, so if any of you wake up early tomorrow and you make a noise… I’ll kill you.”

“I thought you were going into work anyway?” Kili laughed.

“Well yes,” Thorin shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I’m not having a lay in, I’m serious when I say I’ll kill you if you wake me. So shut the fuck up.”

The brothers laughed at their uncle, it wasn’t like him to sleep in especially not on a Sunday anyway. But there was a first time for everything, just like there was a first time for putting a long quarrel between families in the past. Thorin just hoped that Thranduil would accept the change that the tattooist was offering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to have a thing for making the Durin family be all close and.. family-like
> 
> I promise promise promise there'll be some actuall Fili/Kili stuff going down next chapter... I've just got to build it up! Plus the Dwori date!  
> And whooo, Thorin's realising he's an asshole and doing something about it! Let the Thorinduil begin!
> 
> Thanks for reading Hobbiteers! Your comments mean a lot. Diolch :)


	9. Start Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are lookng up for certain people... or are they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry.. another late update.. but I hope it's worth it :)

It was Sunday morning and the sun was finding it hard to take a peek through the black clouds, which were casting a dark and dreary atmosphere on the streets. It looked as if the clouds were about to burst and release an attack of heavy rain, ready to drench everyone that were walking on their way to work, or most likely to grab some groceries for their Sunday dinners. Sunday dinners were the best thing about Sundays. Thorin was rather upset he wouldn’t be getting his until the afternoon sometime.

Unlucky for him, and for the other tattooists, they were going to spend a few hours in Erebor Ink, because frankly they were a rather unorganised bunch and had some tattoo designs to finish up. Fili and Kili had left a little early that morning, since Bombur opened the bakery even on a Sunday, saying the customers had to have somewhere to go for their desserts after their dinners. Hence why Thorin and Dwalin didn’t join them in the brother’s car, they took to walking to the shop since it was only half an hours walk and Dwalin wanted to leave to do something later anyway. Although walking didn’t seem like a good idea anymore, judging by those black clouds.

Thorin almost started jumping up and down in excitement as they approached the tattoo parlour. He really didn’t fancy getting caught up in the rain, not when he’d have no clothes to change into or the slight chance of getting a cold. Thorin was about to go into Erebor Ink behind Dwalin, when the Scotsman stopped short and caught Thorin’s attention.

“Looks like he’s in the shop again today.” He told him, nodding his head in the direction of the florists across the street.

Thorin followed Dwalin’s gaze and found what he was talking about. Across the way he saw Thranduil standing outside his shop, with Legolas held tightly in his arms, the young boy was asleep with his arms dangling over his father’s shoulders. Bard was beside him, he was putting a pile of boxes on top of each other before he picked them up to carry them inside. Thranduil was left alone with his son, rocking him back and forth gently as he slept on.

Then Thranduil was looking over at Thorin. They’re eyes met in an intense stare, and Thranduil stopped rocking Legolas in his arms. The tattooist could see Thranduil was a little stunned to see Thorin looking over at him, it must have been a bit strange for him to be standing there just watching him. So Thorin sent him a smile, an actual smile. Not all teeth and over the top, but a small simple one that would at least express his intentions to make amends.

Thranduil didn’t smile back of course, instead he broke all eye contact and turned his back on the two standing outside the tattoo shop door. Thorin could only sigh, and watch as Thranduil made his way into the florists, seeming to hold his young son a little bit tighter.

“It looks like he’s not close to being on the mend.” Dwalin suddenly said.

“Yeah,” Thorin turned his head away and pushed Dwalin through the door. “It’ll take time.”

When the two men entered the tattoo shop, it wasn’t an unusual thing to find Nori and Beorn arguing over who made the best cups of tea at the parlour. Beorn seemed to be confident that his brewing skills were excellent, while Nori was appalled that the bear man seemed to think that.

“Oh, come on!” Nori groaned, pointing a pencil at the other man. “You’re tea has no taste!”

Beorn rolled his eyes, flipping through some pages in the appointment book. “At least I don’t leave the tea bags in for fifteen minutes.”

“Makes the tea taste like heaven.” Nori grinned, flipping him off.

Dwalin couldn’t help but join in. “Both your teas taste like shit, how about that?”

The two men looked appalled as they stared at him. Dwalin just grinned like an idiot, picking up his sketch book on the way to his station. He couldn’t help but give Nori a swat across the head on his way past.

“You dipshit!” Nori cursed, rubbing at the sore spot on his head.

“You child.” Dwalin retorted before plonking himself onto his chair.

Nori snorted, thinking Dwalin wasn’t far off from being one himself. He’d once bought a whole jar of pickled onions, just to start throwing them at everyone in the parlour. Yeah, total child.

“How are you, Thorin?” Beorn asked Thorin, who seemed to be hovering by the window, looking out onto the street.

“Fine, thank you.” He answered, taking off his jacket and throwing it over the sofa. “I’m going to grab a cup of tea.”

Beorn nodded, noting that Thorin wasn’t exactly in the talkative mood at the minute. Although Nori didn’t seem to notice that obvious fact, his voice seemed to leak out before he even thought about it.

"So," Nori began, opening his sketch book. "What happened with you and Thranduil yesterday?"

 "Nori!" Beorn almost yelled through gritted teeth.  
  
Thorin just rolled his eyes. Of course they wanted to know what happened. "Nothing, I apologised, he forgave me, and that's that. Nothing else to say."  
  
"Really? He forgave you?" Beorn asked in surprise, suddenly becoming intrigued… and not believing a word of that. "No arguing or threatening?"  
  
 "No yelling or hair pulling?" Nori added.  
  
 "No!" Thorin sighed loudly. "Nothing. Yes, he forgave me. Just leave it alright? I'm going upstairs."

No one argued with that. All the men stared at Thorin as he dragged himself through the door and stomped his way up the stairs, seconds later there was a loud slamming of a door. They all shared a look of disbelief, one because there hadn’t been any argument between the both of them, and two, Thranduil had _forgiven_ him?

The least they were expecting was a slight punch in the face, or maybe Thranduil would have pounced on Thorin and pulled some of his hair out. But forgive him? No, that’s not exactly what the other tattooist’s had in mind when they imagined it. Nori could only chuckle to himself at the thought of Thranduil showing any decency towards Thorin after that, and Beorn soon followed, which only made Dwalin join in.

“What is this world coming to, ey?” Nori snorted, spinning around on his chair and throwing a pen at Dwalin’s head.

Dwalin growled. “Some things definitely don’t change.”

Nori just grinned cheekily, before returning to the picture he was sketching on the desk. While the tattooist was busy and concentrating only on his drawing, Dwalin snuck his way behind the counter where Beorn had left it unoccupied while he tidied up the waiting area. The Scotsman sat himself down on the spinning chair, and taking out his phone which he hid nicely under the front desk, he sent a quick text to the one person he’d constantly been thinking about that morning.

_Morning Ori, everything a-ok for this evening? X_

The reply came back as quick as Beorn had tidied the coffee table by the sofa. Dwalin smiled as he read:

_Of course, I can’t wait! :D x_

*****

Spiderman and the creepy spider, Spiderman and the green goblin guy, Spiderman and that weirdo on a surfboard, Spiderman and the ability to piss of every policeman in the city, that was Bofur’s favourite so far. If Bofur were an author, he’d be one hell of a good one; his titles were so much more creative than original comic books. The one he was currently holding, that could easily be called Spiderman and that red haired chick who always got captured and then got Spiderman into deep doggie doo doo. Maybe that was Bofur’s new favourite.

Bofur laughed to himself, slipping the comic book between more comics. If stacking comic books was what he was going to do every Sunday for the rest of his life, then he may as well runaway that second. If only it wasn’t his cousin’s comic book shop in the first place. Bifur had opened it up ten years ago when they’d moved to London from Dublin, knowing it would be a success because the man had more passion for the Hulk and Wolverine than he did for his own life, it was kind of scary really. He’d even gone as far as almost whacking Bombur across the head with a plate for saying bad things about Magneto.

Bofur obviously wanted to help his closest cousin, so he did the best thing he could do, he co-owned the shop with him, for Bofur had once had his own bar back in Ireland and knew the dos and don’ts of running a business. Bofur would have gone for a nice quiet job in a pub somewhere if it wasn’t for his love and devotion to his beloved family members.

“Damn family.” Bofur mumbled, putting back another comic book on its shelf.

It was all going smoothly until Bifur sauntered over, that pissed off Hulk look adorning his face. Bofur snickered quietly to himself, that face always made him amused.

“What’s the problem?” Bofur asked as he stepped down the small ladder. “Should I be wearing those gloves? Or maybe putting the comics into plastic containers?”

Bifur growled noisily, grabbing the Spiderman comic that was just sitting in his cousin’s hand. He made a motion toward the shelf Bofur was working on, and then pointed at the comic in his hand; he moved his hand back and forth between the two before putting said comic onto the shelf below. Ah, Bofur knew that move.

“Oops.” Bofur chuckled, patting Bifur on the shoulder. “I forgot, Spiderman goes under S.”

 Bifur rolled his eyes, then proceeded to punch Bofur on the arm until he moved out of the way. Bofur grinned, at least now he wasn’t the one doing the shelf stacking.

“I suppose I’ll get the takings of the week sorted.” Bofur sighed dramatically, noting how Bifur scowled at him as he delicately swapped the Spiderman comics over to their rightful place.

Bofur continued to laugh at his cousin’s attitude towards his superheroes, it was like they were his beloved wife and children. As the Irishman made his way behind the counter to open up the takings box, he wondered to himself what Bifur would do if Ironman walked through that door at that very second. If only life was that cool.

As if Tony Stark himself had heard his very thoughts, the door to the comic book shop opened, the bell above it giving off a loud tinkle. He heard shuffling of feet, before he heard those same feet scrapping against the matt to dry shoes. Bofur actually leaned across the counter to see if he could see if it was actually Ironman coming to save him from a day of boredom. But no, it undeniably wasn’t Tony Stark. Although, Bofur was just as excited and cheerful to see his favourite adopted little brother walk through the front door.

“Ori!” Bofur cheered, practically running around the counter to envelope a startled Ori into one of his man crushing hugs. “My god, haven’t seen you in days!”

Ori chuckled softly as Bofur pushed him back to get a good look at him. “I know, I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit yet. Work’s been a little out of hand.”

“Oh, well then I understand completely.” Bofur winked.

It didn’t take long before Bifur had realised there was a new presence in the shop, and he soon had his arms full of Ori, though thankfully he was a bit less man crushing than the other Irishman.

“Hello Bifur,” Ori grinned happily, Bifur had always been such a treasure in Ori’s eyes and he never failed to make the younger man feel at home. “How are you today?”

Bifur help up his hand and gave a thumbs up, and then pointing at Ori as if returning the question. Ori returned the gesture, earning a bright smile from the comic shop manager. Bofur was about to tell Ori to come and sit down and have a chat, but Bifur was on it quicker than a shot of lightning, he’d grabbed Ori by the wrist and pulled him lightly towards a stool that sat in front of the paying desk.

“Well, I think Bifur wants you to stay.” Bofur joked cheerfully as he made his way back behind the desk.

Ori laughed, thanking Bifur as he took a seat. “I can stay for as long as you’ll have me.”

Bofur and Bifur smiled gladly, both abandoning their jobs in the shop to join their young friend by the desk. It wasn’t like they didn’t have all day to finish with their small tasks, it was a Sunday after all and the shop wasn’t even open, so they’ll take a well deserved break and have a talk with Ori who they hadn’t seen in way too long.

It took them half an hour to go through everything that Ori had been through in the last few years, being in university certainly had its stories, and being in a different country had a history all on its own that Ori was glad to share. Ori had gotten so caught up in catching up with his old friends that he’d totally forgotten what he went there to do in the first place.

“So Ori,” Bofur began, placing three cups of tea on the counter he’d just gone to make. “What are you planning on doing for fun here? I’m sure it’s a bit different from being in the Welsh valleys all that time.”

Ori gratefully took the tea and began to take small sips. What he’d wanted to go there for was something he knew he could trust in Bifur and Bofur with, and he didn’t feel at all nervous to even begin. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about… something… I suppose it’s kind of a plan.” Ori smiled uneasily.

“What is it laddie?” Bofur asked, suddenly worried.

“It’s something that’s happened recently,” Ori told them. “And I had to come to the both of you, because I know you’ll be a great help and…”

“What about Nori?” Bofur interrupted, knowing well that Ori usually confided in his older brothers for help. “And Dori? Don’t they know?”

“No!” Ori blurted out, earning a curious glance from the two men across the desk. “No… that’s why I had to come to you. For advice. They can’t know about it.”

Bofur nodded in understanding, giving Ori a reassuring smile and a gentle tap on the arm. “Go on laddie, tell us. We promise we won’t tell your brothers.”

“Not even Nori?” Ori asked Bofur, knowing the two lovers didn’t exactly keep secrets from one another.

“Nah,” Bofur grinned. “Nori forgot to mention that he’d so called borrowed my Harry Potter DVD set once, we could call this a payback. Damn bugger only returned them the other week.”

Ori chuckled softly, a weight lifted off his chest. “Okay, then… um... the thing is… I have a… date. It’s tonight. I’ve got a date tonight.”

Bofur and Bifur’s jaws bizarrely dropped at exactly the same moment, which was hilarious from where Ori was sitting. Before the younger man knew it, the two were clapping their hands together and cheering in excitement for Ori. You’d swear that it had just been announced that they’d won the lottery.

“Oh, Ori!” Bofur grinned from ear to ear. “That’s bloody great news! We’re so happy for you.”

Bifur nodded in agreement, giving Ori’s shoulder a tight squeeze. Ori couldn’t help but smile at his friends, knowing how happy they were for him gave him just a bit of hope that maybe he could tell them exactly _who_ he’d be going on the date with…

“But why would Nori and Dori go mad if they knew?” Bofur asked, the question Ori was hoping he could avoid. “I’m sure they’d be thrilled. Although you’d better warn the guy that Dori will be drilling him with questions before the night is over.”

“Uh… well.” Ori sighed, twiddling with the end of his scarf. “That’s the thing, I don’t want them finding out who it is.” Maybe he could just make it sound like he was going on a date with a random biker guy.

Bifur and Bofur both stopped their smiling. They gave each other a look of concern, that wasn’t what both of them were expecting in the slightest, if anything, Bofur had thought maybe Ori was keeping things from his brothers because he was just too nervous for his date to meet them just yet.

“So,” Bofur began. “Is this guy really bad enough that you can’t tell your brothers about him?”

Ori shook his head. “He’s not a bad person.” He stated as a matter of fact. “It’s just… they don’t like him. He’s… not exactly in the same league as Dori. In any way possible. Ever.” Ori sighed. “In fact I think Dori secretly wants to jab him in the eyes with a load of needles and Nori just wants to throw more than a packet of skittles at his he-”

Ori froze. It wasn’t until he’d said that last sentence that he noticed his slight slip up, making himself stop at the last word. Although now it seemed pointless, he’d completely just given it away, which made him absolutely, ridiculously bad at keeping the whole ‘who I’m dating’ thing on the down low. Everyone knew Nori liked his packet of Skittles when working, and most of the time said Skittles were thrown right at Dwalin’s head. Smooth move Ori. 

Luckily Bofur seemed to look like he was still waiting for Ori to finish his stupid muttering, but when his eyes fell on Bifur it was a whole different kettle of fish. He knew. The older man definitely knew. Bifur started waving his arms about the place, making it look as though he was dancing to that silly Korean song that everybody obsessed over. All of a sudden he was shaking Bofur by the shoulders, pointing out the window, and giving him looks that said ‘it’s so obvious you idiot’.

Ori hid his face behind his hands. Bofur was just looking at his cousin as if he’d suddenly gone insane, it took him slightly longer than normal to know just what he was going bonkers over, and when he realised Bifur was trying to tell him just who Ori was dating, the Irishman decided to ignore his cousin and talk to the young man himself.

“He knows doesn’t he?” Bofur sulked.

Ori nodded. “He caught on to my slip up.”

“Damn.” Bofur sighed. “I’m always shite at catching people out.” He turned back to his cousin again to calm him down. “So, why is Bifur here doing the cha cha? Who is it?”

Ori opened his mouth to reply, but Bifur got there first. The tall man whacked his cousin across the head to get his attention, which it did, and once Bofur’s eyes were on him he bent his arms as if flexing his muscles and did a mean scowl with some sound effects. Ori whimpered, damn, Bifur was good at impressions.

“DWALIN!” Bofur yelled at the top of his voice, almost giving Bifur one hell of a fright. “Holy Mary mother of Jesus fucking Christ!”

Ori cringed. That was exactly the kind of reaction he was expecting.

“You’re going on a date with _Dwalin_?”

Ori nodded slowly. “That’s why Nori and Dori can’t know.”

“Bloody hell.” Bofur’s eyes were like two round saucers. “Of course they can’t know that, Dwalin’s body would be found a few days later in a ditch somewhere… Dwalin though? Nori would go nuts if he knows you’re going out with him, and Dori, oh good lord, don’t tell Dori.”

Ori sighed quietly, running his hands across the smooth material of his scarf. “Maybe I shouldn’t do it then? I mean… I really like Dwalin, we’ve gotten to know each other recently and… I don’t want to keep it from my brothers but… oh, I don’t know. That’s why I had to come here, I need to talk to someone, I just… I really like him.”

Bifur sat himself down next to Ori again, and grabbed a hold of his hand tightly. Ori looked up to see the Irishman shaking his head at him. Ori’s old friend didn’t seem to be taken aback like he’d expected, he just seemed calm and not affected by the news one bit, which made Ori feel a lot better than he had been seconds ago. Bifur lifted his own hand and pointed a finger at his ear, before pointing the same finger towards his heart.

Bofur smiled beside them. “He says listen to your heart.”

Ori couldn’t help but lean forward and hug Bifur for that. “Thank you, Bifur.”

Bifur grinned, he had no idea how Ori had fallen for Dwalin in the first place, but he knew that love was love, and if the young man was happy then he couldn’t give a damn who with. Bifur had never been one to judge.

“Christ.” Bofur laughed without a sound. “Dwalin? You’d best be sure your brothers don’t find out for a while. And when they do, I’ll distract them while you both run.”

Ori laughed lightly, he knew he could count on Bofur to make a joke when needed. “You think I should go ahead with it?”

Bifur nodded, while Bofur just shrugged. “It’s like this guy here said, you follow your heart Ori. Give it a try, and if it doesn’t work out you could always say that you gave it a go. Plus, if Dwalin messes you about I’ll fucking kill him myself.”

Ori laughed wholeheartedly. “That’s fine by me.”

“Good. Because we would have done it anyway.” Bofur grinned. “Now, I’m sure if Nori did find out he wouldn’t be too mad, but don’t tell him just yet just encase. You know how much he wants you to be happy.”

Ori nodded, letting Bofur wrap his arms around him to give him another bear hug. “I know, I’ll just see how things go then… I might tell Nori.”

“But not Dori.” Bofur said, which Bifur agreed to with a nod.

“No,” Ori sighed and hugged Bofur back. “At least, not yet.”

*****

It was three o’clock in the afternoon when the rain decided to start pouring down. It was also the time that Bombur’s bakery was coming to a close, which was lucky for them. The stormy weather was the kind that made the employees want to go home and snuggle in a blanket, with a nice cup of hot chocolate, or tea in Bombur’s case, and watch some really bad TV that they didn’t even enjoy that much. Kili secretly liked to watch those cheesy reality shows that had women bitching about other women, or about their wrinkles that were invading their poor aging bodies.

Bombur had locked the door as soon as the last customer had left, walking into the rain under her umbrella as the wind pushed her down the street. It wouldn’t take them long to give the place a quick sweep and clean up, and for Fili to box up their equipment for the following day. Kili was put on mop duty and machine checks, while Bombur went to it to pack away the food from the counter displays, which made it a lot easier for them to get everything done in a quick and easy manner.

Fili was at the back of the bakery, having started putting things away before it had even hit three o’clock. It hadn’t been the busiest day of the week, frankly the weather was making it hard for people to want to even leave their homes. Fili also wanted to be home at that minute, he wanted to sit back and relax and just get some well needed sleep that he’d been lacking lately. His head hurt, his legs were cramping, and his stomach was rumbling since he hadn’t even thought about having food that day.

Fili quickly put away the utensils that had been cleaned in the dishwasher, stacking them into the box beside it, and putting the box back in its rightful place under the cooking counter. The young cook sighed heavily, listening to the quiet rambling from Bombur at the front of the bakery as he undid his apron. Everything seemed to be in order, the equipment was back where they should be, the ingredients were stacked in the cupboard, the sinks and countertops were cleaned. It wasn’t until Fili was hanging up his apron that he noticed a box sitting on one of the stools nearby.

Fili groaned tiresomely, he was so close to getting home. The cook made his way over to the box and peered inside, it was a box full of baking tins that should have been sitting in the storage cupboard for tomorrow. He picked it up gently, and not expecting it to be as heavy as it was, Fili dropped the big box that landed with a loud crash on the floor. Fili snarled in aggravation.

“Fuck.” He cursed out loud, running both his hands down his face.

“Fili?” Kili came bounding through the door to the kitchen, the noise had been so loud that Bombur had almost dropped a whole cake on the floor. “What happened? Are you ok?”

Fili didn’t answer, instead he just nodded, and bending down he began to pick up the scattered baking tins that had slid across the floor. Kili looked down to see the slight mess it had made, but it wouldn’t take them two minutes to get them all back into the box. Getting down on the floor Kili helped his brother to pick up the trays.

“Are you ok?” Kili repeated, stacking the trays he’d picked up into the box.

Fili nodded once more. “I’m fine.”

“Are they too heavy for you?” Kili asked as his brother put the last tray into the box. “I can carry them for you if you-,”

“I can do it myself.” Fili snapped. “I’m fine.”

Kili sighed as Fili attempted to pick up the box, but all of a sudden the box seemed to weigh like four sacks of potatoes, which made Fili’s arms sag at his sides. “I can’t.” He just about whispered.

Kili looked at his brother with concern, seeing the look of defeat across his face, and his shoulders slumped forward as if he’d lost all his will to move. Without a word, Kili grabbed hold of the box and hauled it up into his arms, leaving Fili kneeling on the tiled floor by himself. But it didn’t take Kili long before he was back by his brother’s side, kneeling right beside him.

“Fili?” He called out with a soft tone. “You look sick, are you sure you’re ok?” Indeed Fili did look rather ill, his skin was taking on a very pale colour while his cheeks had turned a flush of red, and the goose bumps  running along his skin pointed out that he must be freezing sitting in that kitchen.

“Yeah,” Fili whispered back. “I’m just tired.” He ran a hand through his hair, and looking up he made direct eye contact with his brother. “I’m so tired, Kili.”

Kili’s heart sank at the quietly spoken words of his younger brother, his hand automatically reaching out to rest on Fili’s shoulder, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb on his bear neck. It shocked Kili that the other didn’t flinch at his touch like he had been. “I know, we’d best get you home to bed, you need to get some rest.”

“No,” Fili let out a short laugh. “Not just tired because of lack of sleep, I’m tired of _this_.” He pointed between the two of them. “This stupid, pathetic thing between us. I’m so sick of it, I… I just can’t.”

“Fili.” Kili swallowed a big lump in his throat, not expecting Fili to even be thinking about that. “I… I don’t understand.” Of course he understood, he just didn’t know what to say.

Fili sighed. “I don’t want this anymore Kili, the awkwardness that’s been hanging between us. I just want us to go back to normal, to the way we were. We say we’re trying but we’re not, we’re not like we were.” He said, biting his bottom lip between his teeth. “I miss us. I miss being the silly, dorky brothers we’ve always been.”

Kili felt his heart beating twice as fast as it should. Fili saying those words was the best thing he’d heard for such a long time, yet, they stung. Fili wanted them to go back to normal, yet he didn’t even consider the fact that the two brothers had slept together. Fili obviously didn’t think of it as anything but a mistake. Kili hadn’t thought of it that way, he was in love, he was in love with his own brother and he’d learnt to accept that already. He just didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Please Kili,” Fili practically begged, taking a hold of his brother’s hand for the first time in weeks. “Can we just be like we were? Forget this ever happened, start again? I can’t sleep, I can’t think straight, I… I just miss you.”

Kili wanted to scream ‘no!’ right at Fili, admit his feelings of more than brotherly love for him. He wanted to tell Fili that for some reason he was always on his mind, he was always in his dreams, he wanted to touch Fili in a not so innocent way, he wanted to take him to his bed and make love to him through the night and hold him afterwards. But he couldn’t. That would make things a lot worse. Even if Fili knew Kili had some kind of feelings towards him, he clearly didn’t return them.

All Kili said was, “Okay.” It was better than not having Fili near him at all.

Before Kili could even register what was happening, Fili had leapt forward and flung his arms around his brother. Kili closed his eyes and let the feeling of having his brother back in his arms sink in, he draped his arms around Fili tightly, holding him as close as he could. They stayed that way until they heard Bombur’s yelp from the front.

Turns out Bombur had just dropped a cupcake onto the counter. The brothers ended up helping him out, for Bombur was struggling with getting one chocolate cake after the other into the fridges. It didn’t take the three of them long to finish up, it had just passed half three when they were making their way out the front door, Bombur bidding them farewell and sprinting through the rain to his car.

Fili and Kili ran the other way, getting drenched from head to toe before they jumped into the front seats of their car. Kili instantly stuck the key into the ignition and started the vehicle, turning the heat on full blast to warm them up. Fili shivered instantaneously, wrapping his arms around himself as if it would help.

“I’ll get us home in no time,” Kili smiled comfortingly at his brother, steering the car onto the road. “My coats in the back, wrap it around yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” Fili said, sticking his hands in front of the heaters. “It’s not a long drive.”

“You’ll catch a cold.” Kili whined. “If you don’t put it around you I’ll stop the car and do it for you.”

Kili could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile at the corner of Fili’s lips, but he didn’t protest, instead he did what Kili asked of him and nabbed the jacket from the back seat. The younger cook wrapped it around his shoulders, snuggling into it, it was much too big for him which made it even more cosy to hide in. Kili smiled to himself as he saw Fili practically burrow himself in his jacket.

“Better?” Kili asked, turning on the radio.

“Yeah, thanks.” Fili answered quietly. “You always had a good choice in jackets.”

Kili chuckled. “Although you’re the one who bought me that one.”

“That’s because I know your taste.”

Kili laughed once more, stopping at a traffic light. While waiting for the lights to turn green he started playing with the radio, so far he’d come across way too many static channels that just weren’t necessary. He flicked through a couple of old fashioned music ones, until he fell upon a strange song that caught his attention. The voice of a young woman sounded through the car, but the woman’s voice was high pitched and whiny, not to mention she was singing about driving through a forest in an ice cream truck.

“What the hell is this?” Fili stared at the radio player, as if it would suddenly give him some answers.

“Who knows,” Kili snorted, cringing as the woman’s voice got even higher in pitch. “Jesus, fuck, she sounds like a god damn whale on helium, what the hell, what kind of idiot signed this shrieking banshee up?”

Fili tried his best not to laugh, but couldn’t stop himself. He held onto his stomach as the giggles just fell out of him, his grin reaching his ears. Kili was startled by the sudden outburst of laughter, he turned to look at his brother who was laughing uncontrollably in his seat, trying so hard to stop himself by putting his hand over his mouth.

“What?” Kili began laughing himself. “What’s so funny?”

Fili let his laughter die down a little before he answered. “You.” He said, biting his bottom lip to try and contain his outburst. “You just say… the silliest things… you’re crazy.”

Kili grinned widely. “Well duh, I’m a Durin.”

Fili chuckled, grinning from ear to ear before he hit his brother gently on the arm. “ _I’m_ not crazy.”

“Bullshit.” Kili snickered. “Don’t think I havn’t forgotten about that time you tried to bake a Mars Bar in the oven.”

Fili chuckled softly as he looked out the window at the pouring rain. “I was six.”

“Still crazy.” Kili declared, smiling at his brother. He watched him as he pulled the jacket tighter against him, and the corner of his lips still lifted in that sweet smile that made Kili feel light headed.

Fili, realising he was being watched, turned to his brother and gave him a curious glance. “What are you smiling at?”

Kili’s smile got brighter if possible. “Nothing.” He said. “I’m just happy I’ve made you laugh after such a long time.”

Fili could only smile in return. Reaching out his hand towards Kili, Fili took a hold of his brother’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, before he pulled it away to fiddle with the coat as he watched the raindrops on the window. Kili avert his gaze towards the road in front of him, noticing the red light turning to green. As Kili drove away past the lights towards home, he could still feel the tingling sensation in his hand from where Fili had touched it seconds ago.

*****  
  
Five o’clock rolled around by the time the tattooist’s were leaving the parlour. Most of them had finished their designs, while Beorn had sorted out the customers for the coming week, and Nori had in fact decided that maybe Beorn’s tea was a little tastier than his own. Beorn left first, biding the rest goodbye as he stepped out into the wild weather, he strolled down the street to his car as if there was no wind or rain smashing into his face.

Dwalin and Thorin put their tools away quickly, switching off the light to the tattooing area and making their way to join Nori at the front of the shop. Nori was lazing on the sofa as usual, skimming through a magazine off the table, reading something about a woman who got pregnant by an alien that kidnapped her and made her have funny dreams.

“Waiting for someone?” Thorin asked, kicking Nori’s feet off the table.

“Yep,” Nori snorted at something he read. “Mother hen’s coming to pick me up.”

“Ah.” Thorin took a look through the basket by the door, digging out his big umbrella.

“How are you getting back?” Dwalin asked his friend. “I’ve got to go get something before I go back to the apartment, I’ll be going out before six.”

“Bit of a tight squeeze don’t you think?” Nori said. “It’s gone five already.”

“That’s why I’m leaving now.” Dwalin declared, whacking Nori across the head with his own umbrella as he made his way to the door.

Nori reached out to try and hit him back, but to no avail Dwalin was way too far away for him to put in that much effort. Dwalin rolled his eyes, yanking on his jacket. Before the Scotsman could open the door himself to get out, someone got there first and shoved it open almost thumping him in the face by the sheer force of it.

“About bloody time.” Nori sighed as he jumped off the sofa.

Dwalin was met face to face with none other than Dori. The oldest Ri brother was soaked through, his clothes sticking to him like a second skin. He looked up at Dwalin with a scowl on his face, before greeting Thorin with a smile.

“Evening.”

“Hello Dori.” Thorin said, putting on his own coat.

“Let’s get a move on Nori.” Dori said to his younger brother. “I’ve left the oven on.”

“Ori’s at home.” Nori told him, as he made his way over.

“He’s not paying any attention to me for some reason.” Dori sighed annoyed. “He’s getting ready to go out with an old friend tonight.”

Dwalin could feel the blood run from his face, his hands sweating. If only Dori knew the truth about where Ori was really going that night.

“Let’s go then.” Nori skipped to the door, patting Thorin on the shoulder as a goodbye, and sticking out his tongue at Dwalin as if that was his way of waving. “See you suckers.”

“Well,” Dori turned to Thorin who was waiting patiently to leave. “I shall have a good chat with you sometime soon Thorin, haven’t caught up with you in a while.”

“Yeah,” Thorin smiled. “That would be great Dori.”

Then Dori turned towards Dwalin, looking him up and down as if he was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever laid his eyes on. Dwalin wanted nothing more than to punch that look off his face for good, talk about judging a book by its cover.

“I see you have new tattoos?” Dori said. “You really need to calm down, sonny.”

With that said, Dori left without another word, leaving the two tattooists to watch him retreat out into the rain and into his car. As the two brothers drove off, Dwalin happily stuck his middle finger up at the most annoying man he’d ever met.

“I think he secretly likes you.” Thorin chuckled.

“Fuck you.” Dwalin growled. Thank god Ori was nothing like his asshole of a brother. Talking of Ori, Dwalin suddenly realised he had to get Ori that gift he’d been thinking of buying him, and then he had to get home to get changed and be able to pick up his date by six. “Shit, I’d better go, I’ve uh... got to go ask about something at uh… that tourist thing. How are you getting home?”

“A bus.” Thorin answered, as Dwalin opened the door to a thunderous downpour of rain. “I was going to go get some shopping in first anyway, Kili ate all the cereal, I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

“Yeah,” Dwalin popped open his umbrella and stepped outside, luckily Thorin wasn’t nosy enough to ask what the hell he was on about. “See you later.”

Thorin gave his friend a wave before he too went out into the rain, glad for the huge umbrella he had to cover himself. The tattooist locked up the tattoo parlour, and turned to take a glance around. Rain was coming down from the sky in bucketfuls, hitting the ground so loud that it sounded like a load of nails smashing against the stone, he had a feeling the weather wasn’t going to get any better anytime soon. Fortunately the bus shelter was just a few yards down the road, and it had a roof which would help keep Thorin a little bit dryer than the umbrella was doing at that moment. The rain seemed to have found a way to reach his trousers.

Thorin was about to make his way towards the bus stop when his eyes caught movement across the road. He looked over to see Thranduil walking out of his flower shop, a stack of books balancing in his arms as he tried his best to lock the place up. Legolas was nowhere to be seen, neither was Bard, so Thorin guessed they must have left earlier, leaving Thranduil to do things alone. Maybe it was because he needed to be alone.

Thorin watched as Thranduil finished locking up the door, and stared up at the black sky with a sad look on his face. Instead of waiting for the rain to stop, Thranduil held the books against his chest and braved the bad weather, instantly getting drenched all the way through his clothes. The florist had barely taken three steps before a few of his books decided to fall to the wet floor, Thranduil gasping in alarm at seeing them land right next to a massive puddle. Thorin saw the whole thing of course, he couldn’t just stand by and not do anything, so Thorin looked up and down the quiet road encase and jogged to the other side to help.

Thranduil was trying hard to bend down to pick up his dropped books, but was failing miserably because the other books he was holding were threatening to tip over too. Thorin could see the rain had completely ran through Thranduil’s clothes, right down to his skin, he walked over to the younger man at once and covered him with his umbrella. Thranduil looked up in surprise at the sudden stop of the rain, and his eyes grew wide as he came face to face with the one person he wasn’t expecting.

“Here.” Thorin said, holding out his umbrella to the other man. “Hold this.”

Thranduil stared at Thorin in disbelief. “Why-,”

“Hold it.” Thorin cut in, practically shoving the umbrella into Thranduil to give him no choice.

Once the umbrella was in Thranduil’s hand, covering them both although not completely, Thorin bent down to pick up three books that were getting soaked by the sodden floor. Thranduil was still looking at him as though he’d suddenly grown two heads, but Thorin just ignored it, knowing that the florist was probably thinking a prank was about to happen or he was helping him for something in return.

“Where’s your car?” Thorin asked him, keeping a hold of the books.

“Why?” Thranduil asked in return, standing there with the umbrella still in one hand, and a few books in the other.

“Because I’ll walk you to it.” Thorin answered.

“I don’t need you to.” Thranduil said stubbornly, holding out the umbrella to give back to Thorin.

Thorin sighed. “Well, I’m going to.” He smirked defiantly. “So you either let me walk you to your car with that big umbrella of mine, or you walk there by yourself without it and get all your nice books wet.”

Thranduil stared at Thorin in puzzlement. He didn’t know what to do, punch Thorin in the face for being such a snarky git, or thank him for actually _helping_ him. Thorin Oakenshiled was helping him? Thranduil shook his head in disbelief, and instead of answering he turned around and started walking. Well if Thorin was offering to keep his books dry, then it was fine by him.

Thorin didn’t see that one coming. Thranduil turned around before he could even notice, which got him a little wet for about a second before he joined Thranduil under the umbrella and followed alongside him down the road. Neither of them said a word of course, but both of their minds were reeling with different things. Thranduil was wondering why Thorin was being so… nice. Why had he suddenly ran over to him to help him with his books? And why the hell would he even bother walking him to his car? It felt odd to even be walking this close to him.

That last thought was exactly what was on Thorin’s mind. He’d never been so close to the younger man, let alone share his umbrella with him. But Thorin had said that he would try his best to help, to make things easier for Thranduil and to perhaps change things for the better. This was one way of doing it, and if Thranduil was going to put up a fight, then Thorin knew just how to fight back. Thranduil wouldn’t be able to resist his charms anyway. Thorin smiled slightly to himself, he could hear Fili and Kili telling him just that.

It didn’t take long for them to get to Thranduil’s car. The green vehicle was parked a couple of doors down from his shop, being beaten on by heavy drops of rain that didn’t seem to want to calm down. Thranduil stopped just outside the driver’s seat door, clicking the button on his keys to open it.

“Here.” Thranduil held out the umbrella to Thorin, who took it without question. “You can leave now.” He said, as he reached for his books.

“No.” Thorin simply said.

Thranduil’s eyes darted up, giving Thorin such a look of impatience that it just made Thorin want to roll his eyes. Instead, he took the umbrella out of Thranduil’s hand and held it over them himself, and passing the books he had held over to their rightful owner, Thorin opened the car door with care. Thranduil didn’t know what he was playing at of course, so he just stood there, books in hand and car keys dangling from his finger.

“Well.” Thorin began. “Aren’t you going to get in?”

Thorin kept a hand on the car door, making sure the strong gusts of wind didn’t swing it open any further. He gestured towards the front seat with a nod of his head, waiting for Thranduil to get inside and out of the rain storm. Thankfully Thranduil didn’t argue with his strange, kind behaviour, he just averted his gaze from the other man and got inside the car, making sure he placed his books on the passenger seat with awareness.

Thranduil suddenly felt a slight shiver run up his spine, sending goosebumps across his cold skin. He hadn’t noticed how soaked through he was until he was sitting in the car, clothes sticking to every part of his body, and drips of water running down the sides of his face. Thorin seemed to notice too.

“Make sure you turn the heaters up.” He said. “Take off those clothes as soon as you get home. You don’t want to catch a cold.”

Thranduil heaved a sigh, sticking his keys into the ignition. “Why would you care.” He stated more than questioned.

“I’m only trying to help.” Said Thorin, and it was the truth, it wasn’t easy trying to be so nice to someone he’d been ‘enemies’ with since he was young. “You could just try and let me.”

Thranduil started the car, irritably pushing the gear stick into first. “I don’t want your help _Thorin_. I thought I made it clear that I just want to be left alone.”

Thorin nodded slowly. “But when you _do_ need help, you’re going to need someone, anyone. I’m willing to be one of those people.”

Thranduil stared at Thorin wondering whatever happened to the man that used to call him names, start pointless arguments, or do little things that irritated him to no end. Now he was offering help, apologising for something he’d said by accident, even running to his aid when he’d forgotten to bring a damned umbrella and dropped his books in a stupid puddle. Thranduil exhaled softly, looking out of the front window.

“You can try, but I don’t think you should bother.”

With that said, Thranduil reached over to grab a hold of the door’s handle, making Thorin jump out of the way for him to close it with a noisy slam. Thranduil didn’t take his eyes off of the road when he pulled out, driving off onto the quiet road. Thorin watched him go, standing there in the pouring rain under an umbrella that hardly kept him that dry, it felt like he was standing in a pond.

The tattooist stood there for a short while, looking down the road that Thranduil had driven down moments before. Thranduil was proving to be a tough one to get through to, no matter how much Thorin tried to prove that he wanted to lend a hand he was sure he would be shot down and ignored. He couldn’t blame Thranduil for doing so, since they weren’t exactly on friendly terms and had never even said a good word about one another. Though Thorin had decided he was ready to change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Ori and Dwalin are excited for their date, Fili and Kili are getting back to normal, and Thorin's trying so hard to help Thranduil... seems far too easy right?
> 
> I'm starting to love writing Thorin/Thranduil.. Lee and Richard would make a beautiful couple! :)


	10. New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin takes Ori on a date, and Thorin didn't expect to find himself on Thranduil's doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for a short DwOri date... I just wanted their date to be a cute one, and show how special Ori is to Dwalin :)

The time was six fifty five, and ticking away. Darkness had settled upon London, and the rain had calmed to a slow and steady fall. It was a calming sound as the raindrops hit the windows of Dwalin’s car, the only sound he could hear from the inside, except for the whooshing of cars that went by now and again. At least it helped settle the Scotsman’s nerves a little, since his stomach felt like it was about to erupt and his heart was pounding away hard at his chest.

In less than a minute Dwalin would be pulling his car up near Ori’s house, and would be taking him on their first ever date. Pressure was on, since Dwalin had taken such a fancy to Ori that it was a new emotion to him to have such strong feelings towards someone. Ori must be something special for him to even consider taking him on such a romantic date, Dwalin was no romantic, but if it meant winning over Ori’s heart then he would do anything. Dwalin smiled to himself, he sounded like such a sap. For some reason he didn’t care, he had a gorgeous, young man to impress. Dwalin had even gone as far as dressing up a little, he had on a button down shirt with some fancy jeans and his favourite winter jacket. Not his usual day to day outfit, it was the one stuffed at the back of his closet for special occasions such as this one.

As he finished that thought he soon came to realise where he was. The tattooist pulled his car over at the side of the road, bringing it to a stop next to the pavement by some tall trees next to a house. Dwalin switched off the engine, put his headlights to a dim, and sat there taking a deep breath. This was it, Ori was waiting for him just a few doors down, and Dwalin felt like he was about to puke his guts out. He laughed to himself, since when had he become so nervous because of a guy he was taking out.

Dwalin took another look out through his front window, noticing the peaceful fall of rain in the light of the street lamps. At least it wasn’t pouring it down like it had been in the morning, he’d have to change his plans a little, but thankfully it just meant he had to keep them under cover instead of going someplace else. Hopefully Ori would like what Dwalin had in store for them, he’d been contemplation on all of Ori’s favourite things that he’d learnt about while talking to him, and tried to come up with the best date Ori had ever been on. He just hoped he was right in all his choices. Fingers crossed, Dwalin yanked his phone out of his pocket and sent Ori a text letting him know he was outside.

As he waited he took one last look in the mirror, making sure he didn’t have some misplacements with his beard, luckily he didn’t have to worry about his hair because he clearly had none. Dwalin looked down at his hands, turning them over as if inspecting them. He wondered if Ori actually liked his tattoos, if he didn’t really mind them being there, most of the guys he’d dated before were as covered in tattoos as him but Ori, he was definitely not the type to get even one. Maybe Ori was used to them, seeing as Nori was also covered in them. With any luck Ori wouldn’t mind anyway, since it wasn’t just his arms and legs decorated by the ink, his entire body had different stories to tell.

Dwalin was drawn out of his thoughts by the gentle tap on his car window. The Scotsman looked over to the passenger’s side window, noticing Ori standing outside sending him a small wave. Dwalin practically dived over the seat, reaching for the handle he unlocked the door and shoved it open, ushering Ori inside with his hand. Ori got inside swiftly, pulling the door closed with a lot of effort; the wind seemed to be stronger than he’d thought.

Ori sighed heavily as he shut the door, Dwalin chuckling as the younger man sagged in his seat in relief. “Evening.”

Ori looked at Dwalin with a big grin. “Hello.”

“You’d better get that coat off.” Dwalin told him as he started the car, fiddling with the heating. “I’ll put the heater on full blast, it’ll get you warm and dry.”

“Thank you.” Ori smiled, taking his jacket off and folding it in his lap.

Dwalin set the heating on full blast, and sat back in his seat. The Scotsman took a quick look at his date and couldn’t help but smile, Ori was dressed in a pair of skinny jeans with a tight fitted, knitted jumper that complimented his eyes entirely. Dwalin had never seen him look so adorable, those knitted jumpers fitted his character perfectly.

“You look lovely, Ori.” Dwalin said, sending the younger man a sweet smile.

Ori looked over in surprise, the hint of a blush spreading across his cheeks. “Thank you.” He said shyly.

Dwalin chuckled softly, noticing how Ori started playing with the sleeve of his jumper. At least the younger man was as nervy as he was. It made Dwalin feel a lot better, if they were both nervous about it then it made it easier.

“Oh,” Dwalin started, then reaching behind the passenger seat he lifted a standard sized purple box, tied up with a dark blue ribbon. “I got this for you.”

Ori stared at the parcel that Dwalin held out in front of him, his blue eyes widening. “Oh, Dwalin.” Ori said. “You didn’t have to get me anything!”

Dwalin grinned. “Yes I did, you’re someone very special so I wanted to treat you.” Ori blushed even more. “It’s nothing much, but I remembered you telling me you liked it.”

Ori gazed at Dwalin curiously, a smile reaching his lips as Dwalin sent him a cheeky wink. The young artist suddenly became even more interested as to what was sitting in that charming little box, if it really was something he’d mentioned to Dwalin, then the Scotsman was definitely going to astonish him already. Astonish him it did, because Ori could have sworn he’d mentioned what was in the box the first day they had met, which felt like such a long time ago.

Ori laughed quietly, as he lifted the lid of the box all the way. Inside sat five big packets of Haribo sweets, the allsorts mix, Ori’s favourite kind. On top of the sweets there was a small, long, old fashioned wooden box, with engravings of silver patterns all around. Ori opened it up, and inside there were some pencils, a rubber and a sharpener, along with a note on a piece of paper. It read: _Don’t give up. Dwalin x_

“Oh, Dwalin.” Ori sighed lightly, smiling down at his gift. “You really didn’t have to do this. They’re wonderful.”

Dwalin smiled happily, delighted that the younger man was amazed by the present. It had taken Dwalin a long time, and a lot of thought to choose the perfect gift for Ori, and it was such a relief to know he’d gotten exactly the right one. Ori was a brilliant artist, and Dwalin didn’t want the young man to give up on his art, that’s why he’d gotten him the drawing set to keep him on the right path.

“I’m glad you like them.” Said Dwalin.

“I love them.” Ori grinned, leaning over to wrap a free arm around the bigger man. “Especially the Haribos.”

Dwalin chuckled as he hugged Ori back, basking in the scent of his apple shampoo by the smell of it. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, but really were only a couple of minutes. Dwalin didn’t really want to let go, in fact, he wouldn’t have minded staying in the car and just talking to Ori for the next few hours. But he knew time was ticking, and they had to be on their way before where they were heading would close up for the night. So, reluctantly, Dwalin pulled away from the hug and gave Ori a bright smile.

“We’d best be off.” He told him. “Get your seat belt on, it’ll take us about fifteen minutes to get there.”

Ori did as he was told, as Dwalin pulled out onto the road he buckled up his belt. “Any clues as to where we’re going?” Ori asked.

Dwalin chuckled. “None whatsoever.”

Ori laughed softly, not minding that answer at all.

Driving along the road through London at night was rather annoying. There were too many traffic lights, pedestrians crossing when they really shouldn’t be, and not to mention crazy taxi drivers that think they own the damn roads. Luckily, tonight Dwalin had Ori in the car with him to just about keep him from shouting his beard off at the ridiculous drivers all around him.

The drive to their location took just over twenty minutes, Dwalin wasn’t too far off. They’d chatted about what they’d been up to that day, Ori going to visit Bifur and Bofur while Dwalin tried and failed to design a tattoo for an eighteen year olds first one. Just having that short amount of time in the car had relaxed Dwalin a bit, making him feel more at ease about the date, and Ori had seemed to loosen up too.

“We’re here.” Dwalin announced, as he pulled into a small car park and stopped his car beside another.

“Really?” Ori asked, getting curious as he took a look through the window, all he could see was the tall bushes in front of the car and a cabin a few yards down the road. “Where are we?”

“You’ll soon see.” Dwalin grinned, undoing his seatbelt. “I brought you to this part so as not to give it away just yet.”

“Should I be scared?” Ori laughed softly, tucking the gift Dwalin had given him under the seat carefully.

“Nah, unless you’re afraid of ducks I think you’ll be okay.”

Ori gave Dwalin a questioning glance. So the Scotsman had driven him to a not so busy part of London, where there are tall bushes, a long black gate surrounding them, and possibly a load of ducks. Ori had an idea of where they could be, but then again, nothing he’d seen on the way had suggested anything, well besides the ducks.

“Let’s go.” Dwalin said, he reached over the back seat to retrieve a big box, around the size of a large briefcase, and he also picked up an umbrella.

Ori quickly put on his jacket, and made sure to zip it up as far as it could go. Dwalin was first to get out of the car, he moved fast, and before Ori could open his  own door Dwalin had done it for him and was standing there with the umbrella over his head.

“Don’t want you getting too wet again.” Dwalin told the younger man.

Ori smiled sweetly, the Scotsman was such a gentleman at heart, and it was proven once again as Dwain put down the box he had under his arm and held out his hand to help Ori step out of the car. As Ori stood beside him and shut the car door, they both shared a smile before Dwalin took hold of the box once again.

“Would you like me to hold that?” Ori asked.

“No, no.” Dwalin answered, sticking out his arm that was holding the umbrella. “But you can take a hold of my arm.”

Ori let out a small laugh, not hesitating to rest his hands on the tattooist’s arm. They walked that way down the car park, both keeping dry under the shelter of the huge umbrella as the rain kept falling. Ori was being led by Dwalin, since he had no idea where he was going, and had never really been to this part of London before. The young artist tried to find clues to where they were going, and didn’t come across any until Dwalin turned down a long pathway.

“Kensington Gardens?” Ori asked in surprise, he caught a sign carved across a wooden sign near the large, black gate ahead. This wasn’t what Ori had guessed in his head.

“Aye.” Said Dwalin, walking them towards the big gate. “You did say you hadn’t been here since you were a child. So I thought I’d bring you back.”

Ori suddenly stopped, catching Dwalin off guard who swiftly turned to the younger man. Ori was looking up at him with wide, brown eyes, his expression a little too hard to tell by Dwalin’s standards. He prayed that he hadn’t made a mistake.

“How did you remember that?” Ori asked quietly.

“What?” Dwalin asked. “That you haven’t been here since you were a kid?”

Ori nodded slowly. “I told you that when you were drunk!”

Dwalin grinned cheekily. “Well, even if I was drunk of my ass, I couldn’t help but listen to your sweet, angelic voice all night.”

Ori chuckled. “You actually remembered what I said to you that night?”

“Aye. Like I said, I like listening to you talk. I may seem like I’m a bad listener, but that’s just at everyone else besides you.”

“Oh, Dwalin.” Ori smiled brightly. “You really aren’t as tough as people think you are, are you?” He joked.

“Well,” Dwalin shrugged with a grin. “I guess you have that effect on me. You bring out my softy side.”

Ori laughed slightly. Being bold and completely out of character, Ori got on his tiptoes to give the Scotsman a gentle kiss on the cheek. Dwalin was taken aback by the gesture, but couldn’t help a gigantic grin from forming on his face. He wasn’t going to ask questions, if Ori wanted to kiss him on the cheek from now on then so be it, although he was going to be a gooey mess. Ori really was bringing out his softy side.

Dwalin had led them through the black gate, following a pathway that turned to the left and spiralled off into a gardenlike area. The gardens weren’t very busy, the rain was obviously keeping people away, which Dwalin was slightly glad for since he’d get some alone time with the other man. They soon came to their destination, where Dwalin led them down a narrow pathway and past some tall trees and colourful flowers popping up from the grass.

The couple came upon a small bandstand, it was made out of wooden beams and a slate roof, its floor was made out of old, patterned tiles, and it was just big enough to fit at least ten people. Luckily, the walls of the bandstand were high enough to keep out the rain, something Dwalin was hoping wouldn’t be a problem. The tattooist took Ori towards it, noticing how the young man’s eyes brightened at the sight of it.

“You like it?” Dwalin asked, as they went under the shelter.

“It’s wonderful.” Ori answered honestly. He didn’t remember this side of the park,  
and he’d definitely never seen this bandstand before. “It’s so quiet.”

“Thought you might like it.” Dwalin smiled, placing the box he’d brought on the floor, and kneeling to open it.

“So, what is it you’ve got in that box?” Ori asked curiously, taking a peek over the lid.

“I have…” Dwalin began, as he pulled out a blanket. “This, to sit on.”

The Scotsman swung the cross-stitched blanket out in front of him, placing it on the floor flat. He held out his hand to Ori with a charming smile on his face, Ori took his offered hand and was led to sit on the soft blanket.

“Now then,” Dwalin continued, pulling out a few candles. “I have some of these, to see what the hell we’re doing.” Ori chuckled, taking the candles from Dwalin and placing them on the throw.  “And, of course the most important thing, the food.”

Dwalin pulled out two big sandwiches that were wrapped in a see-through layer, two packets of salt and vinegar crisps, two delicious looking cupcakes wrapped up, and to top it all off were two bottles of cherry cola.

“You’re favourite drink.” Dwalin grinned, wiggling the bottle of coke in his hand.

Ori took it from the other man. “You really do remember everything I tell you, don’t you?” He said with a smile.

“Aye,” Dwalin nodded. “I can honestly say, I’ve never been more interested in anyone like I am with you.”

Ori blushed a little. “Me too.”

“Good.” Dwalin grinned. “Now then, let’s light these candles so we can eat. I’m bloody starving.” Ori laughed as Dwalin pulled out a matchbox he had stowed in his bag. “Oh,” He started. “I forgot, I brought something for us to look at.”

The tattooist plunged his hand back into the seemingly never ending box, and he took out a small, ostensibly aged book. It had a brown cover, bound together with some black leather string, and even bits of paper were starting to fall out. He’d seen Thorin with books that looked quite similar, but this one looked more like a journal, something personal to someone.

“This was my great grandfathers.” Said Dwalin, as he passed the book to Ori so he could light the candles. “He was an artist himself, he liked to keep a book full of his art so he could show them off to the family. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit fascinated by the drawings.”

Ori grinned happily, flipping open the cover warily. “Wow, this is amazing.” He said as he stared down at a hand drawn picture of an old London street.

“Here.” Dwalin finished lighting the candles, so he shifted a little closer to his date. “I’ll tell you some stories about the drawings, some aren’t just random.”

That’s how the date went for over half an hour, and Ori couldn’t have asked for a better time. Dwalin told Ori many tales about some of the things his great grandfather had sketched in his journal, one of his favourites was of a small dog Dwalin’s great grandfather used to own as a child, a dog named Chocolate who’d always meet him at the front gate when he’d get home from school.

It soon moved on to chatting about their week, to what they were up to the next. Dwalin had wanted to know all about Ori’s time in Wales, and how his course had gone, because Dwalin hadn’t experienced university life himself and wanted to know if it was as hardcore as people said. Ori had then asked about Dwalin’s own life, since Dwalin knew so much about his, including his older brother’s bad manners and a soft spot for chamomile tea.

Dwalin had told Ori about how he became a tattooist, which was all because of his older brother Balin, who had met Thorin in front of his tattoo shop and told him all about Dwalin and his passion for art. It soon turned to talk of their parents, Dwalin had explained his situation with his parents to the young artist. The Scotsman’s mother and father had never approved of Dwalin’s lifestyle, the tattoos adjourning his body, or the choice to not stay in Scotland to settle down and get a ‘real’ job as they’d said. Ori had told him that they would come around, that if they loved him then they would except his choices and be proud of him no matter what. The younger man’s words had touched Dwalin’s heart.

It was almost nine o’clock when the couple decided to head back to the car, it was getting a little chillier and the park was shutting in less than ten minutes, so they reluctantly got up from the floor. The two had eaten every bit of the food, except Ori had saved his cupcake for later, saying if he ate another bite he’d explode. So Dwalin put all his gear back into the box, while Ori took a hold of the umbrella and stood ready by the opening of the bandstand.

Soon they were both back out in the rain, walking through the dimly lit park under the big umbrella, as they talked on about the different television shows they both enjoyed watching. It didn’t take long to get back to the car, and for them to get inside and back on the road, thankful to be able to warm up with the heaters on full blast. Dwalin had given Ori his jacket, covering his lap with it because he looked colder than the Scotsman himself.

Just past nine thirty was the time that they arrived near Ori’s home. Stopping the car near some tall trees, Dwalin turned off the engine and lights while Ori got his present off the floor. Neither men knew what to say as they sat there in silence, Dwalin thinking to himself that he was the happiest man alive that night. As cheesy as that sounded to him.

“So,” Dwalin began. “Is another date on the cards?”

Ori smiled cheerfully at him. “I hope so.”

“Good,” Dwalin grinned. “Because I’ve already planned that one too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Dwalin reached behind Ori’s seat and brought out a pamphlet. “How does this look?”

Ori took the pamphlet from Dwalin and read the cover, noticing the pictures of animals scattered all around it. His face lit up in an instant, meaning he definitely wasn’t disappointed with Dwalin’s idea at all.

“The Zoo?” Ori asked.

Dwalin nodded. “Aye, I thought I’d take you somewhere you’d enjoy, since you love animals.”

Ori grinned brightly, he never expected Dwalin to do such things for him. It came as a shock that the older man was willing to take him places that he loved, even remembering his favourite food and places to see around London, and he’d even planned out the next date which was sure to be amazing since Ori was a huge lover of animals. Ori was over the moon, he’d never been out with such a wonderful man, and it made him feel the happiest he’s been in such a while.

“Dwalin, thank you so much for this evening.” Ori told him. “For the gifts and the food, and for sharing your great grandfather’s stories, and of course planning the next date in a zoo.” He chuckled.

“You’re welcome Ori.” Dwalin smiled charmingly. “I’ve had the best time with you tonight, even if it was just for a short time.”

“Me too.” Ori smiled sweetly.

Ori had no idea what made him do it, since he wasn’t one to make the first move given that he was so timid. But next thing he knew, he had leant over and was kissing Dwalin on the lips. The Scotsman didn’t seem to mind at all, in fact, he moved a hand to rest on Ori’s neck to pull him in closer. It was the best first kiss either of them ever had, and it was beyond doubt not the last kiss. Ori didn’t get out of the car for at least another hour.

*****  
Fili was a complete and utter idiot. He felt like kicking himself, possibly throwing something at the wall. The young baker had gone and made things a whole lot worse for himself, not to mention it wasn’t the first time he’d done something so foolish. It perhaps wasn’t helping his older brother either. If Kili’s reactions weeks ago were anything to go by, Fili would say his brother was reluctant to go along with the whole ‘let’s go back to normal’ facade.

Arguing and not talking to his brother for that long length of time had almost driven Fili to the edge, he hated it, he despised not being able to laugh with his big brother and share silly moments as they worked in the bakery. Then he’d tried to fix it after a weak moment, telling Kili that he wanted to forget everything and go back to the way they were before everything started. It was like everything was going around in circles.

Obviously Fili couldn’t go back to normal, even if he pretended like he could. How was he supposed to forget the fact that he slept with his brother? Fili sighed, he let himself fall back onto the sofa, stretching his legs out over the arm of it. The baker had gone and dug himself a bigger hole, he was utterly confused about what he was doing and what he could do to make his thoughts just disappear.

Fili had thought about actually sitting down to talk with Kili, bring up the whole situation of that night, and possibly see where they could go from there. But honestly, Fili was petrified. He was so scared to bring it up because he’d actually _liked_ what happened that night, he couldn’t even force himself to deny it anymore. Sleeping with Kili was a mistake, it happened because they got so wasted that they couldn’t keep in mind half of it, but all Fili could remember was that he enjoyed it and that terrified him the most. For weeks now he’d sit in his room alone, thinking back to that night, wondering why his thoughts had trailed to the feeling of Kili’s hands touching him, his lips on his own.

Fili growled in frustration, sliding a hand down his face. The young man rose off the sofa and made his way to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. Fili leaned against the counter top, staring off into space, his mind all jumbled up in all different kinds of thoughts. What if he really didn’t want things to go back to normal? Why had he slept with Kili in the first place? Why the hell had he _enjoyed_ it?

“Fili?”

Fili snapped out of his thoughts as he heard his name being called, he put his glass into the sink to be washed and went into the living room. Kili was standing in front of the television with a mop of soaking wet hair, mucking around with the remote while trying to open a DVD box at the same time. Kili had just come back from Bifur’s where he went to thief the film, seeing as the man had so many in the first place, he wouldn’t be missing it for a while.

“Did he have it?” Fili asked, as he took a seat on the sofa.

“Course he did,” Kili chuckled. “What film _doesn’t_ Bifur have?”

“Good point.”

Kili started messing around with the remote a bit more, before he finally came upon a channel that he needed on the TV, he inserted the DVD and plonked himself down next to his brother. Fili, hopefully without being noticed, tried to shift a little away from his brother, making sure the other man wasn’t too close. He was being stupid, he knew that, but until he got a grip over what was happening to him, he really didn’t want to make another mistake by getting too close to his own brother.

“Have you heard from Thorin yet?” Kili suddenly said.

“No.” Fili answered, brining his legs up onto the sofa. “The Kebab is only ten minutes away, he should be back soon.” He paused before giving Kili a flat look. “Go dry your hair before you catch a cold.”

Kili had just grinned like a kid with candy, but he did do what his brother told him.

Thorin on the other hand wasn’t going to be back soon. The tattooist had left the apartment around twenty minutes ago, deciding that his nephews and he needed to have some family quality time together, which meant some grub and a movie. Thorin was glad to see that the boys were back to the way they were, when the two had actually shared a smile earlier on, so he was also secretly celebrating the return of normalcy around the home.

But once Thorin had picked up the food, and began walking back to the apartment with the kebabs safe and sound in a plastic bag, he’d had no choice but to go off trail. Thorin had taken the longer way to the shops, going down the lengthy street and carrying on through the road of old, but beautiful looking houses, instead of taking the short cut through the alleyways. He needed some fresh air, although he wasn’t very dry considering the never ending rainfall. On his way back he’d encountered someone he thought he wouldn’t see at least until tomorrow, although that someone did live in one of the beautiful looking houses.

Thorin passed one house to his left, the house looked like it had been built in the Victorian era, all chipped grey bricks, slate roof and a remarkable wooden door. The small roof that fell over the porch window was covered in roots and leaves, dangling off the edges like a willow tree was growing from inside. Thorin had always thought it was like a house you’d find in the middle of the woods, all covered in ivy leaves and growing colourful plants all around. Thranduil must have had inspiration for his shop from his own home.

Thranduil had been living at that house since Thorin knew him, it was his parents home before him which meant they must have given it to him when they decided to move before they passed away. Thorin had never stepped passed the front gate, nor was he ever planning to, but someone obviously had other plans for him that night. As soon as Thorin was walking passed the florist’s house, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

Thranduil was getting out of his car in the driveway, moving Thorin to stand a little closer behind a car. Legolas then jumped out of the passenger side, skipping happily towards the front door of the house. The florist seemed to be struggling with two huge bags of flowers, some hanging out of the sides, and some even sticking out of the bag itself. Thranduil was quick in getting out and slamming the car door shut, clearly not wanting to get the contents of the bags wet, which was a bit of a struggle since he couldn’t lock his car fast enough. He did get there eventually, and not caring how he swung the bags around in his hands, Thranduil dashed for the front door where Legolas was trying hard to get up on his tiptoes to stick the key in the lock. None of them seemed to notice that at least six of the flowers fell to the floor.

Thranduil was inside before he could look back and realise. Thorin stared at the forgotten flowers on the driveway, then at Thranduil’s front door, then back again. He could have kicked himself for even bothering to walk across the road, Fili and Kili would kill him if their kebabs got cold. But Thorin remembered his promise to himself, he was going to change with Thranduil, and that meant doing things he never would have done before. So, the tattooist made his way up Thranduil’s driveway, and stopping by the green car, he bent down and picked up seven yellow roses.

Eventually he plucked up the courage to walk up to the front door, he put his umbrella down on the porch but kept the bag full of food in his hand where he now also held some roses, and using his free hand he knocked on the door. Before anyone could answer, Thorin switched the roses into his free hand, making sure Thranduil wouldn’t complain about them smelling like kebabs. Thorin laughed at the thought.

It didn’t take long for the front door to open, and surprisingly it wasn’t who Thorin expected. Legolas appeared in the doorway, looking up at Thorin with his big blue eyes. Thorin smiled down at him and couldn’t help but laugh a little when Legolas’s eyes got bigger in realisation, a toothy grin spread across the boy’s face.

“Hello!” Legolas greeted with a cheerful voice.

“Hello there, young man.” Thorin replied. “Is your father here?”

Legolas nodded energetically. “Would you like me to get him for you?” he asked.

“Yes please,” Thorin said. “Thank you Legolas.”

“You’re welcome King under the mountain.” Legolas grinned. “I’ll go get him.”

Thorin stared at the retreating figure of the bouncy kid, skipping into a room down the hall. What had he just called him? Thorin chuckled softly; Legolas seemed to have one big imagination if that name was anything to go by, because Thorin had never heard that one before. Less than five seconds later, Legolas was strolling down the hallway towards him, this time with his father in tow.

Thranduil noticed Thorin as soon as he rounded the corner, he took one look at the tattooist and immediately became suspicious. Legolas pulled him all the way to the doorway, not letting go of his hand as they came face to face with Thorin. Thranduil turned to his son and ran a hand through his blonde, but slightly damp hair.

“Legolas, darling.” He told him in a hushed voice. “Go and dry your hair with a towel, then put on your pyjamas for me, alright?”

Legolas nodded with a bright smile. “Okay daddy.”

Legolas let go of his dad’s hand, and leaped up the stairs singing to a song quietly. Thranduil and Thorin were left alone, both looking at each other, wondering what on earth the world had come to.

“Yes?” Thranduil spoke first. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh…” Thorin suddenly felt lost, which was new regarding who he was standing in front of. “I just um… I saw you drop these.” He held out the roses. “I uh… thought you might need them so… I picked them up.”

Thranduil half-heartedly took the roses from the other man’s hands, not bothering to argue with him, or even attempt to ask why he had even bothered picking them up. Thorin noticed this, he was expecting at least a question on why didn’t he just leave them there to become dirty and crumpled. But Thranduil didn’t say a word, he merely took the flowers and stood there staring at the sky outside, his eyes drooping, looking so sad that Thorin could have sworn he’d been crying.

“Are you okay?” Thorin asked before he could stop himself.

Thranduil sighed loudly, letting his head nod forward as he rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Not really, no.”

Thorin was caught off guard by that answer, Thranduil was always telling him how he was fine, and that he didn’t need his help, and how he was coping well all by himself. But he most certainly wasn’t expecting the truth.

“Is everything okay?” Thorin said, noticing how Thranduil kept looking at one spot on the floor. He knew it was a silly question, but he wanted Thranduil to talk.

“No.” Thranduil answered so quietly that Thorin almost missed it. “My boyfriend has died, his funeral was yesterday, I’m tired and I just want to give up on _everything_.”

Thorin frowned. “No you don’t.”

“Yes, I _do_.” Thranduil sighed, the tattooist had no right to say that, he was feeling so tired and miserable that he just wanted to give up, just hide away in his house forever and never see the world again. “You have no idea what it’s like.”

Thorin would have laughed if it was possible Thranduil wouldn’t think anything of it, because he knows exactly what it’s like, losing someone you love out of the blue and never having the chance to say goodbye.

“Please.” Thranduil said quietly, stopping Thorin from saying anything in return. “I need to go and check on my son, please just… go.”

Thorin stood still, he wanted to say something, anything to get Thranduil to realise he wasn’t alone or that he didn’t have to keep his feelings hidden. But just looking at the florist, standing there with his shoulders slouched and his head bowed in defeat, he had no choice but to let him return to his son and get some rest that he beyond doubt needed. Thorin kept in mind that soon he would have to force Thranduil to sit down and listen to him, to accept that he was there to help him, and so were many others. Thranduil needed to understand that he wasn’t alone.

“Alright.” Thorin said, picking up his umbrella that was sitting open on the ground. “I’ll go.”

Thranduil didn’t say anything; he just stared at Thorin as the man sent him a slight nod, the yellow roses still clutched tightly in his hand. Before Thorin could take but three steps off of the porch, he heard a hushed voice speak from behind him, which made him turn back around.

“Thank you.” Is what Thranduil said. “For bringing these roses to me.”

It took Thorin a while to register what Thranduil had just said, those words of gentleness had never been spoken to him by Thranduil before, and it all but caught him by surprise. “You’re welcome.” He said in return.

Then Thranduil just nodded, a hint of a small smile on his lips. The florist shut his front door and went inside, leaving Thorin to stare at the wooden door on the porch, umbrella resting on his shoulder and plastic bag still in his grip. For some reason he caught himself smiling a tad, he felt as though he’d just achieved something, by hearing Thranduil say two words that he’d never said to Thorin before, it was one step closer to finally breaking down the barrier that made them dislike one another.

As Thorin finally made his way home he made sure to take his time, listening to the rain fall against his umbrella and the sounds of his shoes hitting the puddles under his feet. Although he knew Fili and Kili would be starving and complaining that their food took way too long to get there, luckily he’d bought them some chocolate which would undoubtedly keep them happy afterwards. Thorin laughed quietly to himself, for an unknown reason to him, Thorin felt like making amends with Thranduil was like getting a second chance to make things right and make both their lives a whole lot better.

It took Thorin around twenty minutes to get home. Puddles and rain were getting a little too much while he was slowly walking down the street, having no choice but to speed it up. His socks were squelching in his shoes, the bottom of his trousers were most probably damp, and he dare not think about the kebabs that were most likely a bit less warm. As soon as he’d reached the entrance to the three storey flats, he jammed his finger on the button’s to allow him in, swinging open the door and diving inside.

Once Thorin had gotten to his shared apartment he hastily let himself in, chucking his umbrella and shoes to the side, and making his way into the living room. Fili and Kili were lounging on the sofa, laughing uncontrollably at something on the television. It didn’t take long for them to notice his presence, Thorin could already tell that Kili was more excited to see the food in his hands than anything else, he basically bounced off the sofa and grabbed the plastic bag.

“Where the hell you been?” Kili asked as he ran with the food into the kitchen.

“There was a queue.” He lied; he didn’t want to go into the actual events when the two just wanted a relaxing evening. “Sorry.”

“Don’t have to be sorry, I’m just glad there’s food! I’m bloody starving.” Fili said from his position on the couch. “Take a seat, we’ll just get Kili to be our servant and bring us the food.”

Thorin chuckled, he took a seat on the other side of Fili, making sure not to knick Kili’s seat or he’d start whining about not being able to sit next to his brother. His feet felt awfully wet so he tossed his socks to the side, along with his jacket that fell next to the sofa.

“Did he get the film?” Thorin asked his younger nephew.

“Yeah.” Fili answered, reaching for the remote. “I’ll stick it on now.”

“CHOCOLATE!”

Thorin and Fili began laughing as Kili’s animated voice rang through the flat. “Knew that would make up for my lateness.” Thorin chuckled.

“Damn right it does.” Kili grinned as he walked into the living room, passing the kebabs out in their styrofoam tubs. “Didn’t you get one for Dwalin?”

Thorin took his kebab and immediately dug in. “He’s not back until around ten I think, he’s having food out.”

“Where’s he gone?” Fili asked, turning on the movie.

“No idea,” Thorin shrugged. “He just said he was going to meet a friend.”

The brothers hummed in response, too busy digging into their delicious food. Thankfully they didn’t mention the fact that the food was colder than it should be, Thorin thought they were just too hungry to notice. As soon as they’d opened the lids, the tempting smell of the meat drifted into the air, and they had no choice whatsoever to just eat it all up in a hurry. There wasn’t much conversation for a while, what with the movie playing and their attention fixed on their meal.

Minutes after the three of them had finished, they went into commentating on the film, it was something the family had a habit of doing every time they were together. It wasn’t the greatest of films, but it was one of the best to have a natter about. Thorin wasn’t a huge fan of the film himself, but when he looked over and saw his nephews laughing together, and acting out the scenes like they used to when they were kids, Thorin didn’t mind sitting through it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made everything up about Kensignton Gardens.. I just used a park I've been to in Wales as a reference :)
> 
> Sorry if this chapter seemed rushed, it did to me :/ I just want the whole drama and events to start happening, so I've got to do the whole build ups and blah blah.. drama will happen soon! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting, you're awesome!! :)


	11. In Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An event leads Thranduil to realise, he doesn't need to be alone anymore...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not 100% happy with this chapter.. took me so many mistakes to get the ending right.. hope it's good enough for you guys!  
> AND I'M SORRY BECAUSE THIS CHAPTER IS A TAD LONGER THAN OTHERS... if you don't like long chapters that is!  
> Also... there's hardly any Dwori in this chapter.. at all.. sorry :( I swear I'll make it up to you Dwori shippers! <3

Kili was dreaming about puppies. Tiny little, black and white ones with big ears and cute, brown eyes. He’d always wanted a dog since he was a kid, preferably one that looked just like the ones he saw running about in his dream. That’s all it was really, puppies running around in circles as he laughed to himself. Until he got attacked by them, each one bounced onto him, licking his face and tickling his tummy. It felt awfully real, the little dogs stomping all over him and making him squirm. In fact, it felt so real that he woke up from him slumber, only to comprehend that he was actually being tickled.

Kili groaned sleepily, rolling onto his back as someone prodded him in the ribs, getting to his weak spot. “Stop.” Kili mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with one hand while the other tried pushing the person away.

All he heard was a muffled laugh, and Kili knew instantly that it was Fili. His little brother carried on tickling him, making sure to get him in the right places, the spots that made Kili jump up. Kili let out a loud laugh as Fili got him hard in the ribs, he was wide awake now, and the first thing he saw was Fili’s big grin above him.

“Time to get up.” Fili said, climbing onto the bed to gain access to Kili’s neck. “We’re going to be late.”

“Get off.” Kili giggled as Fili tickled his neck. “Stop.”

“Not until you get up.” Fili chuckled.

Kili took a hold of Fili’s wrists, trying hard to lift his hands away from his ticklish neckline. He was victorious of course, he grabbed Fili’s wrists in his hands and pushed him up, making him slip off the bed and onto his feet.

“You’re a dickhead.” Kili grinned, sitting up in bed.

“You’re related to me, so that makes you one too.” Fili poked his tongue out, swiping Kili’s trousers off the floor and throwing them in his face. “Get dressed dickhead.”

Kili laughed sincerely, running a hand through his mop of curly hair. He felt really good this morning, because Fili was there to wake him up, just like he always did.

Fili made his way into the kitchen to check on the kettle that had been boiling in his absence, he also picked up his bag on the way, and made sure he’d chucked in everything he needed for the day. It was a Wednesday, which meant the middle of the week, which usually meant customers would swarm in to get their fix of coffee and pastries to cheer them up. Normally when it was a busy day, Kili and he would take some chocolate bars and their iPod, they needed the energy from somewhere.

When Fili entered the kitchen, his uncle and Dwalin were already sitting by the window with their mugs of tea, flipping through the channels on the small television in the corner. Fili greeted them good morning, before he made his way to the kettle, making his brother and himself flasks full of hot tea.

“It’s nice to hear you two laughing.” Thorin commented whilst taking a sip of his drink.

Fili shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh aye,” Dwalin joined in. “You two being all weird and shit with each other for weeks, then it’s all back to laughing and joking like it should be.”

“Massive deal.” Thorin added, turning up the volume on the TV. “Oh look, the energy companies have decided to raise their prices.”

Dwalin growled. “Fucking assholes.”

Thorin hummed against his mug. “Fucking politicians more like.”

“What’s the difference eh?” Dwalin snorted.

Fili just rolled his eyes, typical of the two to just start and end a conversation as if it hadn’t even started in the first place. Sometimes Fili forgot that the two were even cousins, but then moments like these always reminded him, the two had way too much in common that every so often it was quite creepy.

Once Fili had finished pouring the tea into the flasks, he grabbed a hold of his bag and swung it over his shoulder. The clock told him it was half eight already, they’d promised Bombur they’d be in by nine, only to start baking earlier than standard and help him get everything set. The young baker said his goodbyes to Thorin and Dwalin, before practically jogging into the living room, stopping by the front door to grab the keys off the hook, and rather professionally put his shoes on without using any hands.

“Kili!” Fili shouted to his brother. “Get your ass over here, we’re supposed to be going in early!”

“I know, I know.” Kili rounded the corner, slinging on his snug jacket. “Got the keys?”

Fili held them up as he slipped on his second shoe, but before he could make another move, Kili yanked the keys out of his hand. “I’ll drive, you’re like a turtle on the road.”

Fili gawped at his brother as he opened the front door. “For that, I am drinking your tea.”

“Like hell you are!” Kili snatched his Scooby-doo flask out of Fili’s hand, and laughing he sprinted down the hallway to the stairs.

Fili sighed, stepping out into the hall and shutting the front door behind him. “Such a dickhead.” He said to himself, but couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on his lips.

When Fili reached the car that was parked right outside the apartment, his older brother was already sitting in the driver’s seat, singing awfully along to the rubbish that was on the radio. Fili tugged open the passenger’s side door, plonking himself down into the chair and immediately turning off the radio. Kili gasped at him dramatically.

“That was uncalled for.”

“I’m sure it was.” Fili grinned, putting his flask safely on the dashboard. “You don’t even like eighties music.”

“I do too.” Kili argued, a smirk gracing his features. “I just… hide my love for it.”

“Sure you do.” Fili chuckled. “Now let’s get going, before Bombur starts panicking and eats all the cakes.”

“Ouch.” Said Kili. “Don’t want another replay of that.”

Kili started the car, turning up the heater to get a bit of warmth into the vehicle. He was just about to take off when the back doors opened, and in flew Thorin and Dwalin on both sides, huffing and puffing like they’d just ran a marathon. Fili and Kili twisted around in their seats, giving the two a look of stupefaction.

“What?” Dwalin asked, leaning back comfortably in the seat. “We needed a lift.”

“What about your car?” Kili returned.

“It’s sleeping.” Thorin told them. “And we both can’t be assed to drive today.”

Fili and Kili both smiled amusedly at each other, before turning back around. “Such a pair of old men.” Kili commented, earning a slap across the head from both of the men in the backseat, and maybe a discreet laugh from Fili in the front.

The two old men sitting in the back, as Kili had dubbed them, got out of the car as soon as it stopped and practically ran to Erebor Ink. Apparently Dwalin had a bet on with Thorin that he could get to the tattoo parlour from the car first. Fili and Kili were walking towards the bakery, when they noticed that Thorin was the one that got to the parlour first, they could see him waving his arms in victory from down the road.

The brothers went inside the bakery, an alluring smell of cakes and dough reaching them. Bombur was beating up the coffee machine like he did most mornings, it was a tricky one, too many buttons to do only a few things, it was like reading instructions in another language. The baker was so happy to see them that he whooped in excitement, putting them to work as soon as they’d tied their aprons around their waists.

After clearing the tables out front, helping Bombur to put each cake tidily out in the display case, and lastly gathering their supplies for the day out back, Fili and Kili went at it to set up their counters for their baking session. Today they’d be cooking some fresh pastries, things like cinnamon rolls and custard tarts, desserts that were always so tempting to just eat up as soon as they came out of the oven. Kili helped Fili with his equipment, setting it all down in front of him, before returning back to his place and starting on a few croissants.

Fili hadn’t even started yet, when he involuntarily let out a big yawn. “Uuurgh.” Fili groaned, rubbing at his eyes.

Kili grinned cheekily at his little brother. “Looks like someone hasn’t been getting enough sleep, told you those late night films were a bad idea.”

“Fuck off.” Fili mumbled, a smile threatening to split his lips. “It’s your fault; you kept me up last night.”

“Not my fault you enjoyed those sugary liquorice laces a little too much.” Kili chuckled. “You were more lively than an electric wire!”

“You’re the one that bought the sweets, so I blame you.” Fili poked his tongue out at his brother, and before Kili could say anything back, he made sure to shut him up by throwing a raisin at him.

“Oi!” Kili laughed, tossing a chocolate chip back.

It soon turned into a throwing whatever you can find fight, which Bombur had walked in on and didn’t even have to question what had happened. It was just another day at his wild bakery.

*****

Nori had taken twice as much time now doing this guy’s bizarre tattoo, and it was driving him a little bit over the edge. The tall, lanky guy had insisted on getting this weird, ugly looking clown with big red eyes, a shiny nose and orange, frizzy hair. Nori had starred at it for a while, before thinking, well if this guy wanted this piece of screwed up art on his body for the rest of his long life, then so be it. Every time he went over the clown’s hair with his needle, he just wanted to stab the damn circus performer in its creepy eye.

There Thorin and Beorn were, standing outside in the cool weather, drinking their nice, warm cups of tea, and Dwalin sitting in his corner on that stupid phone of his again, while Nori had to draw a freaky clown. Life surely did hate him sometimes, and this was proof.

“I’m going to the shop.” Dwalin suddenly got up from his spot in the corner. “Want anything?”

“Yeah,” Nori began. “A bottle of sanity would be nice.”

The man in the chair giggled, Nori could have sworn he sounded more like a twelve year old than a nineteen year old. “I’m afraid they’re out of that stuff.” Dwalin answered, swinging his jacket over his shoulders. “See you in two.”

That’s when Nori was left alone in the parlour with clown boy, who began chatting to him about the supposed aliens planning to take over earth in half a century’s time. This guy was a right odd one.

Once Dwalin had stepped outside, he didn’t stop to talk to Thorin and Beorn who were sitting on the windowpane, drinking their hot cuppas. Instead he just told them of where he was going, and all but sprinted down the road to the grocery shop. Beorn made a comment about how he looked funny when he ran, because his shoulders were too big to let his legs move that fast.

“I’m telling you,” Beorn said. “His upper body is going to break his legs sooner or later.”

Thorin laughed softly. “I’m sure Dwalin won’t be going to A&E anytime soon.”

Beorn snorted, taking a slurp of his tea. “So, Mr. charming, how’s things with Thranduil? Making any progress?”

“Mm.” Thorin hummed. “I guess. He did kind of smile at me the other day, I suppose that’s progress.”

“Smiled at you eh?  What did you do, bake him a cake?”

Thorin laughed. “I just gave him his flowers.” Beorn looked at him as if he’d just grown two heads, realising it just sounded like he was saying he’d given Thranduil a bouquet of flowers, he quickly fixed his words. “I meant, I was walking home and saw him drop some flowers on his driveway so I picked them up and gave them to him.”

“Oh.” Beorn smiled, patting his friend on the back. “Good move. I bet he wasn’t expecting _you_ on his doorstep. How’s he looking anyway? No signs of getting sick I hope.”

“No. But he’s not looking too well, not in high spirits. He said the funeral was the day before, or on that day, I can’t really remember.”

“Shit.” Beorn sighed, clutching his mug of warm tea against his chest. “I didn’t know about that, haven’t heard anything from anyone, must have been a private one.”

“Yeah.” Thorin agreed. “It probably didn’t make things better for him either.”

“He’ll get there Thorin.” Beorn assured him. “He just needs support that’s all, even if he doesn’t know it.”

Thorin nodded, finishing with his tea he placed it on the window ledge, looking across the road at the delightfully decorated flower shop. Support was all he needed in sum, Thorin knew that all too well. Thranduil was just a bit stubborn though, so Thorin knew everyone was going to have a hard time trying to knock some sense into him that he needed company.

“Hey look,” Beorn bobbed his head to the side. “Talk of the devil.”

Thorin moved his gaze to where Beorn was looking, walking down the street their way was Thranduil, Legolas skipping by his side with his school bag slung over his shoulder. The two held hands, Legolas almost dragging his father along the pavement, desperate to get to the shop. Thorin fixed his gaze on the rubble floor once the father and son had stopped outside the florists, not to look like he was staring at them, technically he had been but Thranduil didn’t need to know that.

“Thorin!”

The tattooist looked up then, Beorn nudging him in the arm with his elbow, pointing to where the sound of his name was coming from. It was Legolas, the little kid was bouncing on his feet, waving a hand in the air at him excitedly. Thorin couldn’t help the smile that formed his lips, nor could he not wave back, he lifted his hand into the air and sent Legolas a wave. Thranduil soon caught his attention, the boy’s father was watching him with an unreadable expression, and Thorin tried smiling at him, hoping he’d at least get a nod from the florist.

What he got instead was a smile back. It wasn’t a huge, toothy grin, of course not, but it was a small smile, barely there but noticeable. As Thranduil turned to go inside, letting a bouncy Legolas run in before him, Beorn let out a high whistle, smiling toothily at the other man.

“Did you see that?” He said. “Thranduil smiled, I’ve never seen that guy smile before. You’re making process alright.”

Thorin only laughed, before making Beorn get his butt back inside before Nori started drifting off to wonderland with the clown boy. Before they could open the door, a thought hit Thorin, and he stopped his friend from going inside.

“Remember when we first met Legolas, and he wanted us to make a book for his dad.” He said, and Beorn nodded. “I think we should start that soon, maybe that could be something to cheer Thranduil up.”

“Yeah,” Beorn grinned cheerfully. “That sounds like a good plan.”

Meanwhile, in the florists, Thranduil was pulling out the colouring book that sat under his front desk, along with all the crayons in their box. Legolas was swinging his legs over the high stool he was sitting on, leaning his elbows on the counter facing him, waiting ever so patiently for his dad to bring him stuff to do. While Bard sorted out the two customers he was currently helping out with some bouquets, Thranduil spread out all of Legolas’s books and colours on the end of the desk, taking a seat beside him.

“Thank you, daddy.” Legolas said, before flipping open his colouring book and yanking a green crayon out of the box.

Thranduil smiled sweetly down at his son, running a hand gently through the six year old’s hair. Thranduil felt lucky at that moment, watching Legolas scribble red and green lines across a picture of a dog, he was lucky to have such a beautiful, warm-hearted son that helped him to smile whenever he felt like giving up. Legolas was the one that kept him going, that made him realise everyday why life was so precious, that he had something to live for.

“Daddy?” Legolas pulled his father out of his thoughts. “Are you okay?”

Thranduil smiled down at him, planting a soft kiss to the top of Legolas’s blonde hair. “I’m fine darling, just thinking.”

It wasn’t a lie, yet it wasn’t the truth either. That morning Thranduil hadn’t been feeling a hundred percent, he’d woken up with a throbbing headache and aches and pains in his chest. The florist first thought he’d caught a cold from the ongoing rainy weather, but through the day he hadn’t experienced any flu like signs. He’d just dismissed it as just being too tired, having had terrible nights tossing and turning in bed, trying hard to get to sleep but always failing.

“Hey,” Bard called from across the room, closing the door behind the customers that had just left. “Are you okay Thranduil?” Bard asked, walking towards the little family. “You’re looking pale.”

Thranduil sighed; standing from his spot on the stool to join Bard at the other end of the desk, making sure Legolas couldn’t hear them. “My heads killing, and I feel like collapsing onto a bed.”

“Did you not get any sleep again last night?”

Thranduil shook his head. “I woke up three times this time.”

“You need to get some rest,” Bard said, placing his hand on Thranduil’s shoulder. “You’ve got to calm down with work, you’ve been working on bouquets non-stop.”

“You can’t do this by yourself.” Thranduil said, sitting himself back down to rest his head in his hands. “I’ll just… I don’t know… I’ll have to go to bed earlier or something.”

Bard sighed. “You know that’s not going to help.”

“It’s a start, isn’t it?” Thranduil said, rubbing at his eyes with the palm of his hands. “Is there any medicine upstairs?”

“I’ll go get you some, sit right there. I’ll make you a cup of tea too.”

“You’re a saint, Bard.”

“I know.” Bard grinned.

“Daddy?” Legolas called from his chair.

Thranduil ran a hand through his hair, putting on a small smile for his son. “Yes, sweetie?”

Legolas jumped off his stool, skipping over to Thranduil and Bard, who was collecting his used mug off the counter. “Can we go to see Thorin today?”

What Legolas said was not what the two men were expecting. Bard turned to Thranduil in shock, the other man was looking at his son with wide eyes, noticeably surprised by the mention of the tattooist. Legolas wasn’t fazed, he had an eager grin plastered on his face, oblivious to the blow he’d just struck on his father.

“Why would you ask me that, Legolas?” Thranduil asked.

“Because I want to see him. Thorin is your friend too, don’t you want to see him?”

Thranduil didn’t know how to answer. All he could do was stare ahead, thinking of as many possible ways as he can to let his son down gently, to tell him that no, Thorin was not his friend. But he couldn’t, he didn’t want to turn that smile Legolas had on his face upside down.

“Thorin is busy, Legolas.” Thranduil said instead.

“Oh.” Legolas huffed, but his smile didn’t disappear. “It’s okay daddy, I understand.”

“Hey Legolas,” Bard interrupted, walking around to the little boy, and tousling his hair. “Let’s go upstairs, we can make your dad a nice cup of tea, and cut him a big piece of sponge cake.”

“Yeah!” Legolas cheered, already running for the door.

Thranduil sighed heavily, putting his fingers to his temple, hoping if he rubbed at his head the aching would magically go away. “Thank you, Bard.”

“It’s no problem.” Bard said with a smile. “Now you relax here for a bit, I’ll go get that tea and medication for you.”

Thranduil let out a deep breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He was left alone in the front of the flower shop, no sound to be heard, unless you counted the cars whizzing past outside, and the people passing by every now and then. It was hard to concentrate on anything besides the thumping in his head, constantly nagging at him. Then the pain in his head would remind him of why he was like this in the first place, and his eyes would automatically start watering, his hands would start shaking, and the headache would worsen.

Thranduil rubbed roughly at his eyes with the palm of his hands, trying so desperately to stop himself from crying, but it was difficult not to, it had been since that night had happened. To top it off, Thorin was constantly coming up in his mind, replaying the times he’d lent a hand to him and told him how he wanted to basically be his friend and get him through his tough time. It didn’t help his situation when Legolas had grown a fondness for the man.

Everything was falling onto him like a heavy weight, popping up out of the blue, making his days complicated. Thranduil was so tired of it, he was so confused and he felt so alone when he was at home, giving him time to reflect upon the events of weeks ago. He didn’t know what to do anymore, not with his grief, not with Thorin, not even with his life. Sometimes he just wished he could turn back time, and stop what had happened on that unpleasant night.  

Thranduil sighed softly, remembering every detail of what went on the night his boyfriend had died. The florist put a hand to his chest, rubbing it lightly. He could still feel it, the pain in his chest, every time he thought of how it felt it would always come back.

“Thranduil?” Bard came down the stairs, holding two mugs of tea while Legolas held two plates of sponge cake. Thranduil quickly rubbed at his eyes, wiping away any proof of fallen tears. “We got you some cake and tea, Legolas insisted he share with you.”

Thranduil smiled as Legolas put the plates down on the counter, one in front of Bard who sat opposite them, and one down in front of his father. The little boy held out his arms, laughing as Thranduil hoisted him into the air, and set him down on his lap.

Legolas reached across the table to take a fork off Bard, and stabbing it into the Victoria sponge cake he cut off a piece, and passed the fork over to his dad. “Here you go daddy, you get the first piece.”

Thranduil smiled wholeheartedly, accepting the piece of cake from his son, and planting a sweet kiss to his temple. “Thank you, my sweet little boy.”

*****  
“I swear to god if I have to do another clown tattoo, I’m going to punch the bastard in their face.”

Nori growled loudly, falling back onto the black sofa in the waiting area, practically sprawling out like a flying eagle. Beorn laughed at him from his spot by the front desk, he’d been busy marking down appointments through the day. Thorin was currently sitting by his station at the back, sketching a tattoo he was designing for a new client, and not an easy one. Dwalin had just come down the stairs, phone in his hand and a big grin on his face.

“Oh jeez,” Nori rolled his eyes. “Talking to your made up boyfriend again?”

“Fuck off.” Dwalin said with a smirk. The Scotsman made his way towards Thorin, and took a seat beside him. “You ready to go?”

Thorin looked up from his drawing, running a hand through his short hair. “No, I think I’m going to stay here for another hour or so, I’ve got quite a bit to finish off with this design.”

“Are you sure? The boys should be here anytime now.”

As Dwalin said it, the door to the parlour opened up, sending a cold draft of air inside. Fili and Kili walked in, both looking worse for wear.

“I’m sure.” Thorin answered Dwalin. “I’ll walk home later, you go, besides, those two look like they’ve had a bad day.”

The crew laughed as Fili and Kili dropped onto the chair next to the sofa, limbs spread out and over. Nori stretched a leg, booting Kili on his knee, making him groan in irritation because clearly he wasn’t in the mood for kicking back.

“Hard days work?” Beorn asked the two brothers.

“Could say that.” Fili answered for them both. “It’s been busy, and we had a customer complain that the pie slices weren’t big enough.”

“Wow.” Nori snorted. “Posh git.”

“That wasn’t the worst of it.” Kili moaned. “Customers are always right my ass!”

“Oh, you two are such a couple of pansies.” Dwalin teased, making the way to the door to swing on his jacket. “Are we going or not? Because I’d like to get home before my phone goes dead.”

“But we just sat down.” Kili let out in a high groan.

“Let’s go. The sooner we get home, the better.” Fili sighed. “Are you coming uncle?”

“I’m staying for a while longer.” Thorin called from the other side of the room.

“Really? Don’t blame us if all the cheesecake is gone by the time you get home.” Kili jumped up off the chair at the thought of some nice, raspberry cheesecake, regretting it as soon as his legs threatened to give way. “Bollocks.”

“Come on old man.”Fili said as he grabbed Kili by the arm, pulling him towards the front door. “See you guys later. Don’t stay too long Thorin.”

“He practically lives here.” Nori mumbled, trying to pick himself up off the sofa. His body weren’t having it, his knees gave a click and his neck felt like it had been snapped. “God, what a day.”

“We know the feeling.” Kili said, leaning against the window.

“Beorn, how are you getting home?” Fili asked the oversized man.

“I’m hitching a ride off Dori with Nori.” Beorn answered, while he put on his jacket.

“Oops, that reminds me.”Nori dived off the sofa, practically racing to get his coat off the hook, attempting to put it on while madly dashing around to look for his umbrella. “Mr. Keep the house clean is waiting in the car as we speak.”

“What?” Beorn frowned. “I’m blaming you for being late.”

“I’ll just tell him Dwalin wouldn’t let me out the front door.” Nori grinned cheekily.

Dwalin’s head popped up at the sound of his name, he sent a punch on the arm Nori’s way. “Don’t you bloody dare, he hates me enough as it is.”

“Guys.” Thorin called from the back, the whole gang turned towards him, all of them standing like a group of meerkats by the door. “Piss off out of Erebor before I make you.”

They all grinned at Thorin, obeying his commands of course, otherwise if he didn’t get his peace and quiet they’d all be doomed. As soon as they’d all pulled their coats on, and found whatever it was they were looking for, Beorn led the way to the door. Beorn opened it up, feeling a draft wash in, and the beginnings of a light rainfall, but what they weren’t expecting was the figure that came in with it.

There, in the entrance to the tattoo parlour stood a man, a tall, slender man, standing straight with his hands behind his back as if he were important. He had coal black, wavy hair, a sneer on his lips that could make a baby cry, and eyes that were a mixture of blue and green, although they held a spot of a dark colour in the middle, one could say they looked red if they knew the man’s true nature.

None of the men said a word to the man as he slowly stepped inside, a devilish smirk turning his lips sideways, watching everyone glare his way as he walked past them. Thorin gradually stood from his chair, not taking his eyes off of the man that strutted inside, making the atmosphere feel so cold and dreary.

“Smaug.” Thorin said between clenched teeth, a hint of spite in his voice.

“Thorin Oakenshield.” Smaug smiled unkindly, his voice was deep and raspy. “Not working much this evening I see.”

“Oh fuck off!” Dwalin cursed at the man, his temper rising at the sight of him. The others would have started something too, if it wasn’t for Thorin’s hand going up to stop them.

“You lot can go.” He told them.

“Thorin.” Kili said, giving him a look that clearly said they didn’t want him staying with that man alone, who would want to stay with him alone.

“Go home, you’re all tired.”

No one wanted to argue with him, so one by one they left, stepping through the front door. Fili and Kili didn’t hesitate to send a nasty look towards Smaug as they left, hopefully he’d gotten the hint that they’d crush him if he even attempted to make their uncle’s evening a bad one.

“Well,” Smaug chuckled deeply. “Charming nephews you have there.”

“Leave them be.” Thorin warned. “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing much really.” Smaug said, he started pacing the room, eyeing up the walls and the paintings, even taking notice of the skirting board. “I was just wondering when you were going to pay me.”

Thorin sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know I owe you from last month, but you told me over the phone I could pay last month and this month’s rent at the _end_ of this month.”

Smaug hummed, walking over to the front desk he took up his hand, and with his index finger he swiped it across the surface of the desk, inspecting his finger afterwards as if trying to find specks of dust. “Looks like this place needs a clean.”

Thorin could feel himself getting angrier by every second that the man was standing in his parlour, he grinded his teeth together, wanting so badly to tell Smaug where to go. “Is that what you really came here for, to slag off my shop?”

Smaug grinned wickedly. “Now, now, Thorin, all I want is my gold.”

“You told me to pay you at the end of this month, which is what I’m going to do.”

“Hm.” Smaug shrugged, setting his hands behind his back once again. “Very well. But do not expect me to let you do it again, rent is rent Mr. Oakenshield, and I expect you to pay me on time.”

“Fine.” Thorin growled. “Just get the hell out of my parlour.”

“Oh,” Smaug smirked, as he turned to leave. “You’re forgetting, I own this place, remember. Erebor is _mine_.”

With that last comment drawing out with a deep guffaw after it, Smaug left Thorin standing in the same place, shutting the door behind him as he walked out into the evening air. Thorin let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, wanting to throw that last comment Smaug had made straight back into his face. The tattooist wished he could one day say that Smaug didn’t own the building, but he knew that was impossible, he could never find the money to ever be able to be the owner of Erebor Ink.

Five minutes went by, and Thorin’s phone went off in his pocket as he sat himself down. A text popped up from his younger nephew, Fili’s words putting a smile back onto his face.

_Has that fucking monster gone yet? Because if he hasn’t, Kili and I are coming back, swords and axes included!_

Thorin sent a quick text back, having the support of his family and friends making him feel a little more at ease.

_He’s gone, don’t worry about him, I’m sure one day we’ll be able to slay that selfish, heartless dragon._

Safe to say, Thorin had lost all interest in designing his newest client’s tattoo. Smaug’s nasty look was embedded in his mind, taunting him and laughing at him, he wanted to wipe that stupid, smug look off his annoyingly high cheekbones face. Thorin snarled in bad temper, before he finally decided to shut his sketch book an hour later, and turn off the light by his station.

If he couldn’t concentrate on his art, then there would be no point in staying any longer, wasting his time on something he could do better when his head was empty of all things. The tattooist made his way to the door, flinging on his jacket and stepping out into the chilly outdoors, before locking up the shop with the enormous key that belonged to it. Making his way down the street, Thorin thought to himself about how exactly he could just buy the building his tattoo shop was in, Smaug had never said anything about selling it to him, nor would he, but if there was a chance Thorin could if he had the money, then he wouldn’t think twice about taking it.

Bilbo was a good person to talk to, since he was the one helping him out with the finances, to the insurance, to simply keeping up with the amount of money he was allowed to spend on the place. Maybe if he had a chat with him, everything would become clear, and hopefully together they could come up with a solution to actually buying the parlour, for Thorin to be able to call Erebor Ink his own. All those thoughts ran through his head the entire way, Thorin was taking the long way home, wanting enough time to think, and to not jump into anything quite so quickly.

It wasn’t until he heard a car door slamming that he realised where he was. Thorin looked over to his right, noticing that he was indeed walking down Rhun street, where Thranduil’s house was just across the road. The slamming of a car door had come from there, where the florist was walking up the driveway, making his way to the front door. Thorin stopped for a short while, noticing how Thranduil was holding his head in his hand, rubbing at his temple as if he were in pain. The tattooist sighed, he wouldn’t be surprised if the other man was suffering from headaches, and he was the same when he went through the same ordeal, no sleep and bad heads.

Thorin was about to go on his way, when all of a sudden, his eyes grew wide in dismay as Thranduil slipped on the wet tiles on his porch, and went flying sideways, only to hit the side of his head hard on the sharp corner of the doorway. Thorin heard Thranduil’s cry of pain, before he was running across the road, not paying any mind to the car that was so close to clipping him. Thorin was by the man within seconds, Thranduil fell to the floor on his knees, reaching a hand up to cover where his head had collided with the stone wall.

“Thranduil?” Thorin got down on the floor, putting his arm around the other’s shoulders. “Thranduil? Look at me, please.”

Thranduil whimpered as he raised his head up, making eye contact with Thorin. “What are you doing here?”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “You bang your head and that’s the first thing you ask me?”

“I- ah!” Thranduil yelped in agony, feeling a bolt of pain on his cut forehead. “Oh god.” He took his hand away, there was blood, covering his palm and some of his fingers. “Great.”

“Shit.” Thorin swore, gently pulling Thranduil’s hands away from himself so that he could inspect his small wound. “It’s bleeding, but it’s not too bad. Maybe we should get you to a-,”

“No!” Thranduil winced. “Don’t take me to a hospital, please, I just want to go inside.”

Thorin sighed, he leaned in closer to take a better look at the nasty cut, he was no expert but it didn’t look like it needed anything like stitches. Maybe a wipe down and a good, thick plaster to help it heal.

“Fine, but I’m going to take care of that for you, no complaining about me.” Thorin told him straight, but Thranduil didn’t seem like he was in the mood for arguing.

The florist had gone quite pale, his hands were beginning to shake a tad, and he looked as if he was about to pass out. Thorin hurriedly got to his feet, bending down to help Thranduil stand up, easing him up by the elbows. Thranduil handed his keys to the other man, letting him open the door and lead him inside. Thankfully Thorin didn’t turn the lights on, instead, he let Thranduil point the way into the living room, which wasn’t so lit up like the hallway.

“Here, you’d best sit down.” Thorin said, letting Thranduil fall carefully onto the sofa near the door. “Shall I put some of these lamps on? Do you think you can handle the light?” he asked, noticing a couple of lamps on both sides of the fireplace.

Thranduil nodded, regretting it instantly. Thorin switched on the two lamps, fortunately the light bulbs weren’t too bright, and instead they let off a dim light that just barely lit the room. He went straight over to Thranduil, and got down on the floor, the poor man was clutching his head in pain, biting down on his lip so firm that it began to bleed.

“Thranduil, it’s going to be okay.” Thorin told him, hesitantly reaching out a hand to touch the man’s arms gently. “Just tell me where your tablets are, and I’ll grab whatever you have in the kitchen to patch up that graze.”

Thranduil sighed heavily, letting his hands fall into his lap, his eyes shutting tight. “They’re in the cupboard next to the fridge.”

Thorin nodded, even though Thranduil couldn’t see him. The tattooist dove off the floor and made his way down the hall, passing another room to his left, and finding the kitchen through a door at the bottom of the hallway. He went straight to the cupboard nearest to the fridge, and dug out the headache tablets, then looked around the sink area for a cloth he could use. Thorin soon had a supply of antiseptic gel, a thick bandage, some masking tape, a wet cloth, a glass of water and those pills that worked wonders on bad heads, he practically ran back into the living room to assist Thranduil.

Said man was now lying on his side, head resting against the arm of the sofa, the bleeding on his cut didn’t look as bad as it had minutes ago, but it still could do with a clean up. Thorin put down the damp cloth and the ointment, and nudged Thranduil’s knee with his hand.

“I’ve got you these, take two.” Thranduil obeyed immediately, he shoved the two tablets down his throat and gulped down most of his water. “Good, now sit up, I need to clean that cut.”

Thranduil did as he was told once again, slowly sitting up straight he let out a soft sigh, opening his eyes and flinching at the tiny speck of light in the room. He didn’t bother questioning Thorin about why he was still here, he was too tired to think let alone talk, and the pain drumming in his head was getting too much to handle.

“Okay, this might hurt a little, but I’ll be as gentle as I can.” Thorin said.

With that said, Thorin took a hold of the damp cloth as he got up on his knees, and warily he placed it over Thranduil’s scratched forehead. Thranduil let out a quiet hiss as the wet material touched his cut, but allowed the other man to lightly wipe it over, getting rid of the blood and making sure it was cleaned appropriately. Thranduil watched Thorin the entire time, his face was creased up in concentration, sometimes he would bite his bottom lip if he saw Thranduil was in pain, and he used his free hand to pull the florist’s hair away from the bloody graze.

“There.” Thorin said quietly, putting the cloth down and reaching for the cream. “I’ll just put some of this on it to make it heal quicker, and I’ll try to make a plaster from this bandage.” Thranduil nodded.

Thorin went to it again, holding Thranduil’s side fringe back with his hand, and gently applying the ointment to the damaged skin. Again, Thranduil couldn’t help but watch his moves; he was being so gentle and careful, something the florist would never associate with Thorin, a man covered in tattoos, clothes that were always dark coloured and a voice that is deep and mysterious. But there he was, holding onto his hair with such care, and sticking down the plaster to his forehead so gently that Thranduil thought Thorin might just be afraid he might break him.

“Thorin?” Thranduil said his name so softly that it surprised Thorin, who had just finished putting the plaster on his injury.

“Yes?”

“Why are you here again?”

Thorin chuckled quietly, grabbing the cloth off the floor and taking a hold of Thranduil’s bloodied hand. “Are you going to ask me that question every time I see you?”

“Maybe.” Thranduil looked down at his hand as Thorin cleaned off the blood with the cloth.

Thorin laughed again. “Well then, the answer is still that I want to help you. And tonight, I think you definitely needed the help.”

Thranduil was silent. Of course he needed the help, he would probably still be sitting on the porch in agony if Thorin hadn’t been there, which was rather lucky. For once Thranduil wasn’t going to turn him away, or tell him that he didn’t need him, because frankly, right now he most positively did.

Hell, he probably had needed him since the beginning, if all that he’d been through was anything to go by. His life had turned to hell since losing his boyfriend, and not because he’d actually lost him, but because he was such a fool to let him walk out the door that night. Thranduil could feel his eyes start to sting, trying hard not to let himself start blubbering like an idiot in front of the other man. He didn’t know why, but before Thorin could let go of his hand after cleaning it, Thranduil grabbed a hold of Thorin’s hand, and held him in place.

“Thank you.”

Thorin gazed at the younger man in shock, as tears started rolling down his cheeks, his body shaking, his hands clinging onto Thorin’s hand like he didn’t want to let go. Thorin instantly moved a little closer to the other man, using his free hand to rub down his arm in a comforting gesture. Thranduil cried uncontrollably, his entire self breaking down right in front of Thorin’s eyes.

“Why…are you… doing this?” Thranduil sobbed, trying to gain his breath back between words, not bothering to even try and stop himself from losing it. “You… don’t have… t-to.”

Thorin felt his own heart break at the sight of the young man. “Because I want to, Thranduil.” He began. “Because I know what it feels like, and I know you need support, you need someone to help and be there for you. You can’t be on your own.”

Thranduil lifted one hand, still holding Thorin’s hand in the other, and rubbed at his eyes. “H-How would you… know?”

Thorin sighed softly, calming Thranduil down by rubbing his hand in soothing circles on his back. “My sister died, fifteen years ago, my sister and her husband died in a car accident.” He paused, looking into Thranduil’s tear stained, wide eyes. “They were on their way to pick up Fili and Kili from my home, a lorry went through a red light, and collided with their car.”

Thranduil stared at Thorin in silence, a single tear running down his cheek. “I… I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, it happened a long time ago.” Thorin told him. “But my point is, Thranduil, I want to help you because I know _exactly_ how you feel, I know what you’re going through and I know everything gets better. You need to let me and the others help you, you need the support, it will hurt less if you let people in.”

Thranduil nodded, looking down he noticed he was still holding Thorin’s hands in his tightly. Embarrassed by the unintentional move he let Thorin’s hand go, resting his hands in his lap instead.

“Thranduil?”

The florist looked up at Thorin, staring into his eyes, the tattooist’s deep blue eyes that stood out against his dark clothing, and inked skin. “Will you let me help?” he asked in a quiet, raspy tone. “Please, let me help you get through this, no one deserves to lose a loved one.”

Before Thorin could get another word in, all of a sudden Thranduil had started to cry again, his hands coming up to hide his face. The man was noticeably shaking, moving his head back and forth as if arguing with himself. Thorin couldn’t stand seeing him like that anymore, the tattooist got up off the floor, and without thinking he sat beside the smaller man and pulled him into his arms. Thranduil slid easily into Thorin’s side, letting him embrace him gently.

“It’s okay, Thranduil, everything’s okay.” Thorin whispered in a soft tone of voice. “You’re going to be okay.”

“It’s my fault.” Thranduil said out of the blue, letting his hands fall into his lap, clutching his trousers. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, it was a car crash.”

“I know… but I…” Thranduil took a deep breath, rubbing the tears from his eyes with the back of his hands. Thorin kept his arm reassuringly around him, waiting for the other man to talk when he needed. “That night… the night he died, we… we had a fight… a big one.”

Thorin nodded, not saying anything to give Thranduil the chance to let it all out. “I had just put Legolas to bed, and… and he came home, from the pub… h-he was drunk, completely wasted, and he just, he just started yelling at me.”

Thranduil took a pause, not sure if he wanted to blurt out all that had happened out to the one man he’d hated not long ago. But Thorin was holding him warmly in his arms, he was there for him when he had fallen, and he was silent when he knew he needed to be. Thranduil continued.

“H-he just started shouting stupid things, like… like why wasn’t I in bed o-or… why I hadn’t cleaned the dishes…”

_“WHERE THE FUCKS MY FOOD, HUH?”_

_“Ingwe, please!” Thranduil begged the older man. “Please, stop shouting, you’ll wake Legolas.”_

_“Who gives a shit!” Ingwe spat, pointing a finger in Thranduil’s face. “He’s your fucking kid, you were the donor, not me. I couldn’t care less about that kid, I wouldn’t care if he got beaten to a pulp.”_

_Thranduil gasped under his breath, watching as Ingwe open and slammed the cupboard doors. “You didn’t mean that.”_

_Ingwe laughed, deep and wickedly. “Of course I fucking meant it! That kids a little lowlife, he’ll never make it in the real world. Where’s the fucking food?”_

_“Don’t you dare say that about my son!” Thranduil’s voice raised, his fists clenching in anger. If anyone was to say a bad word about his son, he would not take it lightly._

_But Ingwë wouldn’t take being yelled at either. Before Thranduil could move out of the way, Ingwë came stamping towards him, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, and with all his strength he shoved Thranduil up against the fridge. The fridge shook with the force, sending half of the magnets that were on it flying to the floor. Thranduil yelped in pain as his back made the impact, his hands scrambling to Ingwe’s wrists, trying so desperately to get his hands off him as the taller man’s hands dug into his chest painfully._

_“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me!” Ingwe warned, his words full of venom. “Speak to me like that again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”_

_Thranduil could feel the tears sting the back of his eyes, his chest hurting at the weight of the bigger man’s hands holding him in place. “J-just stop… please Ingwe, you’re hurting me!”_

_“Hurting you eh?” Ingwe smirked; he suddenly let one hand go of the florist’s shirt, and balled it into a fist. “I’ll show you what it’s like to be hurt, sweetheart.”_

“He _hit_ you!”

Thorin said in such surprise that it made Thranduil jump. “No!” The florist said quickly. “He… he almost did. L-Legolas he… he heard us shouting, and came down to see if I was okay.”

Thorin sighed in relief. “Legolas got there in time.”

“Yes. Ingwe let me go, then he stormed out… h-he was mumbling about getting food f-from the food store.”

“So, he went driving while he was drunk.”

Thranduil nodded. “I should never have let him go.”

“Thranduil.” Thorin twisted around on the sofa, and taking a hold of the other man’s hands, he looked into his eyes and tried his best to make him grasp the reality that the accident was only the fault of the drunken man behind the wheel. “It was not your fault in any way, most definitely not because you let him walk out the door. The fault was his own, he was the one that got drunk, and he was the one that decided to drive in that state. It had nothing to do with your decisions, nothing. Don’t blame yourself for this. Besides, if that bastard was going to hit you, I’d say thank God you let him walk out!”

“But I-,”

“Don’t.” Thorin gave the younger man’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I know it may feel like you could have done something to prevent it, believe me, I felt the same way when my sister died. But there’s nothing you could have done, it could have happened to anyone. Thranduil, you couldn’t have changed what happened that night, what’s done is done, and you’ve got to accept that. Please, just don’t blame yourself.”

Thranduil nodded slowly. He knew Thorin was speaking the truth, especially since the man had gone through the same thing years ago, sharing the same feelings of guilt and disbelief, never letting the memory go of that dreadful night that he got the news. Maybe he should stop blaming himself, maybe he was being too hard on himself, and just maybe Thorin was good for him since he knew how to keep him together.

“Thorin,” Thranduil barely whispered. “Thank you, for everything. That’s the best guidance I’ve heard in a long time.”

Thorin smiled genuinely. “You’re welcome. Like I said, I’m here to help you from now on, so don’t even think about kicking me out just yet.”

Thranduil smiled, he even let out a small laugh, letting a few stray tears trail down his cheeks. Thorin couldn’t help but chuckle himself, mainly because he’d just actually made his former so called enemy laugh, something which was very new to him.

“Now,” Thorin let Thranduil’s hands go, putting them back down onto his lap, he stood up off the sofa and took off his coat and resting it on the back of the chair. “I’m going to go raid your kitchen, you could do with a nice cup of tea, if you’re going to watch the TV make sure it’s not too loud, won’t held your head. Also, take off your jacket; do you have a blanket somewhere?”

Thranduil did as he was told, he carefully slipped his jacket off, folding it neatly on the floor. “I’ll go get one from my bedroom.”

“No, no.” Thorin held him down gently by the shoulders. “You stay right there, it’s no good for your head if you’re walking around the place.”

“Thank you, Thorin.”

Thorin smiled, getting used to taking care of the younger man already. The tattooist handed Thranduil the remotes to the television, and made his way to the hallway. But before he could take another step, he stopped, and turned back around to address Thranduil.

“Did he ever hit you before that night?”

Thranduil was caught off guard by the question, but answered sincerely. “No, no he didn’t. He was just… a very angry person. He’d changed in the last year.”

Thorin nodded in understanding. “Were you going to leave him?” he knew it was a very personal thing to ask, but he needed to know, he wanted to know that Thranduil would have been able to gain the strength to push such a vile man away.

Thranduil took time to answer, but said back in a soft voice. “Yes. I was thinking of leaving him, for the sake of Legolas, and for my own.”

Thorin only nodded once in reply, he didn’t really want to say what he thought of Ingwë, because if he had been hurting Thranduil like that, he wouldn’t exactly be calm and collective. It was bad enough to know what the older man had done to Thranduil that night, and it made Thorin’s blood boil, but he knew nothing could be done about it; the cruel supposed human being was gone.

For the rest of the evening, Thorin didn’t leave Thranduil’s house. The tattooist had sent a quick text to Kili, letting him know that he was out and wasn’t sure when he’d be back, he would have to explain to them precisely why he was staying out so late. The two men had sat in silence in the living room, Thranduil curled up in a ball under his cosy blanket on the sofa, while Thorin took the comfy chair near the fireplace. Neither of them spoke hardly any words for a couple of hours, Thranduil was grateful for it, he only wanted to fall into a deep sleep, Thorin could tell by the way his eyes flickered shut every now and then.

The clock struck ten when Thorin at last decided to make his leave. Thranduil had fallen asleep not long ago, his blanket clutched firmly around him, Thorin thought that leaving him to sleep would be best for his head. Quietly he got up off the chair, stretching his arms up high to the ceiling; he’d been sitting down for hours without once getting up. Without making a sound he lifted his jacket off the back of the chair and put it on, before walking over to the younger man, Thranduil was breathing heavily, fortunately pulled into a deep sleep.

Thorin got down on his knees, leaning closely to check on Thranduil’s plaster. It was still stuck in place, hopefully healing itself, not causing anymore pain for him. Thorin made sure the blanket was tucked around him nicely, keeping him warm, since outside was so cold this time of the year. Thorin was just reaching over to pull the blanket a little higher on the other man’s shoulders, when Thranduil shifted on the sofa, drawing the blanket tighter around himself, and snuggling deeper into the soft pillow under his head. Thorin chuckled quietly, Thranduil was kind of cute when he was sleeping, his hair sticking out in places, his hands clutching the cover under his chin, and his lips turned down in a pout.

Thorin frowned. He quickly pulled his hand away, replacing it in his pocket while he stood up. The tattooist shook his head and laughed at himself, he was getting delusional, there was no way he found Thranduil remotely cute. So with that thought being thrown out the window, Thorin took one last look around the room, making sure the television was off, the radiators were warm enough, and the curtains were closed. He dashed into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water and a packet of headache tablets, setting them down on the coffee table near the sofa. Once all was sorted, and Thranduil was safe and warm in the living room, Thorin made his way out of the house, happy with the fact that Thranduil was at long last accepting his help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeaaah! I got so excited about writing Smaug into this.. I have my friend Dafydd to thank for telling me Bilbo needs some loving so he decided on Smaug! Diolch yn fawr Dafydd boio!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed... And thanks to everyone for such lovely comments, means alot to me, you guys rock! :) *hobbit hug*


	12. Tales and Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil wakes to a realisation.. and Thorin gets some visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a whole year since I last updated! :O I'm so terribly sorry! I've had such a busy year!  
> Now that the last Hobbit movie is out (And damn was Thranduil perfect) my Hobbit inspiration has shot off again :)
> 
> I've also fallen harder for the Thorin/Thranduil ship, it's officially one of my OTPs, I love writing about them! So i apologise in advance if there's more of that than Ori/Dwalin and Fili/Kili (I'll probably be told off by my best friend anyway if there's not enough Fili/Kili since he's a hardcore Durincest shipper!) :)

Thorin didn’t arrive home from Thranduil’s until late; it was just turning ten forty five when he walked through the door. The tattooist had decided to take the long way, needing some fresh air and a nice, long walk. By the time he’d taken his shoes off and hung up his coat, he’d felt more tired than he had sitting in Thranduil’s comfy armchair whilst watching some show about gardening. Making his way down the hallway Thorin could hear the television and a muffled voice coming from one of the bedrooms down the left hall, the lights weren’t on in the apartment instead the candles were lit on top of the fake fireplace and along the bottom.

Fili and Kili were lounging on the sofa, still wide awake as they watched some kind of comedy film on the television. They had a bowl of sweets between them, mostly strawberry liquorice, since that was the best to keep them on their feet. The two brothers noticed him as soon as he walked further into the room, sending him a wave and a mumbled welcome.

“Enjoying the show?” Thorin asked as he slid onto the sofa next to Fili.

“Not really.” Kili answered, snapping a rope of liquorice in his teeth. “I don’t get it.”

“Then why are you watching it?”

Fili answered this time. “Guys in swim trunks, funny accents, people tripping over, and liquorice.” He said as he held up the bowl of sweets. “Want some?”

“Didn’t you two say that stuff kept you awake all night? You’ve got work tomorrow.” Thorin told them.

“It’s just too good.” Kili muttered as he stuck a whole piece of the sweet into his mouth. “I need my own liquorice factory.”

The other men laughed, Fili pinching another piece of liquorice from the packet. Thorin didn’t know how they could be eating such sweet stuff this time of the night, but then again, he’d done the same when he was their age.

“So, where’ve you been?” Fili asked his uncle, laughing with his brother as someone on the television tripped over a step.

“Thranduil’s house.” Thorin simply answered.

The brother’s laughter soon came to an abrupt stop. They both turned to look at their uncle, surprised expressions on their faces, a piece of liquorice was even hanging out of Kili’s mouth which he didn’t seem to notice one bit.

“You were at _Thranduil’s_ house?” The liquorice dropped into Kili’s lap as he spoke. “As in, you were _inside_ his house?”

“What did you do?” Fili said. “Bribe him?”

Thorin chuckled, taking off his other jacket and slinging it to the floor carelessly. “I was walking home past his house, and I saw him fall on his porch. He hit his head, I couldn’t just leave him there.”

“What?” Kili leaned forward, placing the bowl of sweets on the coffee table. “He hit his head?”

“Is he okay?” Fili asked, genuinely worried.

“Yeah,” Thorin smiled reassuringly. “It was bleeding a bit, so I bandaged it up for him, gave him some painkillers and made him rest. I stayed a while just to keep him company; he wasn’t… feeling too good.”

Thorin didn’t want to mention to his nephews about the conversation he’d had with the florist, he knew how hard it was for Thranduil to tell him and for him to even tell _Thorin_ of all people in the first place, it showed that Thranduil trusted Thorin which meant he was getting somewhere. He didn’t want to break that trust, not when things were changing between them for the better.

“That’s awful.” Fili sighed. “He must be going through so much.”

Kili nodded. “He’ll get better though. He’s always seemed so confident and strong to me, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Yes he will.” Thorin agreed, proud of his nephews for being grown up about the situation. “He definitely will.”

The three stayed silent for a short while, sitting in the dimly lit room listening to the television. When out of the blue they heard a loud, deep laugh coming from Dwalin’s bedroom. Thorin stretched over the sofa to find that the Scotsman’s door was shut with a bit of light sneaking out from under it.

“What’s Dwalin doing?”

Kili shrugged. “He’s been on the phone for ages.

“We think he’s got a secret lover or something.” Fili stated.

Thorin rolled his eyes, another relationship for Dwalin to push to the side sometime soon.

 

*****

Thranduil woke up the next day to a darkened room, the curtains were shut and the television had been switched off. His head was throbbing unpleasantly, it felt like he’d been hit by a rather heavy object, once he moved his head to try and look up he winced in pain, running a hand across his forehead to try and soothe it a little. Getting up slowly, Thranduil realised he was draped in his favourite blanket and a glass of water and some pain medication was sitting on his coffee table.

It all came flooding back to him when he saw a note lying beside the glass, written in a rather messy hand. Thranduil sat up straight, pushing the blanket to the side and leaning over to pick up the note. His head thumped agonizingly as he reached for the piece of paper, so once he grabbed it he fell back against the sofa without a care in the world. Looking at the untidy hand writing he recognised as Thorins, he began to read the note quietly.

_Thranduil,_

_Sorry I had to leave, you were fast asleep so I made sure you were alright before I did. I’ve left some water and pills out for you, take them when you wake up, and try to rest that head of yours. A cold cloth should help the headaches too. I locked the door after me and put the key through the letterbox. You know where to find me if you need anything. Take care._

_Thorin_

Thranduil couldn’t help but smile at the kind words in Thorin’s letter. When he woke up he wasn’t expecting the man to have left him things to make him feel a lot better, let alone make sure the florist was safe before he left. He put the note back down onto the table and picked up the water and pills, practically shoving them down his throat.

Having gotten up off the sofa carefully, Thranduil went into the kitchen to fetch a clean cloth, soaking it under a cold tap before resting it against his forehead, after peeling off the bandage that was taped to his small wound. With a sigh the florist made his way back into the living room, putting on the television and turning the volume down just a little. He sat there with the cloth balancing on his forehead, and the blanket tucked loosely around his legs, he tried to watch and listen to the TV but his mind drifted to other things which he couldn’t quite forget.

As Thranduil leaned his head back on the sofa, he thought about the events of the night before. The one thing coming into his mind that he wished he hadn’t done, he’d broken down, spilt a secret he never thought he’d tell anyone, a secret he just wanted to forget. Ingwe had gotten rough with him in the last year, he was so close to physically harming him and the night he’d died he almost had, if it wasn’t for his son then Thranduil might have been seriously hurt. Thranduil didn’t want anyone to know just how bad his relationship with Ingwë had gone, but having Thorin there, calming him and staying with him, he had just lost it and had to let it out before he’d explode.

Thranduil never expected Thorin to react the way he had, being so gentle and kind to him, showing him his full support and making him realise he needs to move on for his own sake. Thorin had even told him about his own sister, which was unexpected, but it made Thranduil realise that the tattooist knew exactly what he was going through and maybe he really was trying to save him from slowly caving in on himself and hiding away. Thranduil sighed, maybe trusting and letting Thorin help him was a good idea after all.

Out of nowhere there came a loud ringing tone making Thranduil jump, sitting up and looking around for the source of the noise. It was his mobile phone ringing, and it sounded like it was coming from inside the sofa. The florist stuck his hands down every chink and cranny he could get to, the slightly irritating ringtone making him want to just yell at it to shut up. With a successful shriek, Thranduil got to it behind one of the cushions, not bothering to see who it was as he answered the call.

“Yes?”

_“Thranduil, morning sunshine. How goes this fine Thursday?”_

It was Bard of course, he was usually the only one to dare and ring him before nine in the morning. “Morning Bard, was Legolas alright last night?”

 _“Of course he was,”_ Bard said in his Welsh drawl. _“Came straight back here and watched a couple of films, while I did those order forms of course. He was in bed by half eight, didn’t complain once.”_

“Good.” Thranduil sighed softly in relief. “Sorry again for the trouble Bard.”

_“Hey, it’s all good Thranduil. You needed some alone time to finish off those bouquets, least I could do. How are they looking anyway?”_

“Uh…” Thranduil looked over to his right, seeing bags of flowers still lying on the floor. “I haven’t started, there was… I… kind of had an accident last night.”

 _“What? Are you okay?”_ Bard yelled down the phone in panic.

“Bard, I’m fine, it’s just a small cut.” Thranduil couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend’s overly dramatic reactions. “I fell on the porch and hit my head, Thorin…” Thranduil cut himself off, biting down on his lip.

 _“Thorin?”_ Bard practically shrieked. _“What’s Thorin got to do with it? Did he push you? He better not have pu-,”_

“Bard,” Thranduil interrupted. “No, no of course he didn’t do it. He saw me fall and... well, he helped me. He put a plaster on my head, made sure I was alright, and stayed with me for a while.”

There was dead silence across the phone line, but the florist could practically hear the clogs ticking in Bard’s head. “Bard?”

_“Was there some kind of apocalypse whilst I was sleeping last night?”_

Thranduil grinned in amusement. “No, I just think Thorin was being kind.”

Bard laughed hysterically. _“Jesus, never thought I’d see the day that Thorin Oakenshield starts being nice to you.”_

“Me neither.” Thranduil sighed, standing up to open the curtains. “I honestly think Thorin wants to help me. I mean, he was so great last night, he even left me a note!”

_“Wow. That’s… new. Maybe he really is being genuine after all.”_

“Yeah, he really is.” Thranduil looked down at the note that was resting on the table. “Anyway, I’ll come and get Legolas now to take him to school, and meet you at the shop.”

_“No, no. I’ll take Legolas, it’s no problem. You go to the shop, put the kettle on, and you can tell me all about last night. Deal?”_

Thranduil smiled. “Deal.”

*****  


At the tattoo shop that same afternoon, after the entire staff at the parlour had had an immensely busy day, they’d soon had a bit of time to sit down and relax before their next customers came through the door. Even Ori had turned up, saying he’d had the afternoon off since the manager had thrown a hissy fit about the state on the museum, throwing everyone out so that he could return home to have a breather. To Nori’s distaste, Ori had practically gravitated towards Dwalin, sitting beside him and laughing along at anything the Scotsman said.

Nori was currently in full intensive watch mode, his eyes burning a hole into Dwalin’s head, right between his eyes. If the Scotsman so much as dared put a hand on his brother’s knee one more time…

"Oi!" Nori practically shouted across the shop. "Hands off my brother, pervert."

Ori just rolled his eyes, earning a quiet laugh from the rest of the crew. "Calm down Nori, I'm allowed to have friends."

Nori snorted. "Could have picked a better one."

"Cheeky bastard." Dwalin mumbled, but couldn't help but laugh at the two brothers making faces at one another.

"Well, looks like he's one heck of a protective brother." Bilbo laughed from his seat next to Thorin, who was chatting to the owner about his expenses, as he usually did.

Thorin was tattooing a bulky looking man, all muscles and bald head, somewhat similar to Dwalin but without the face that looked like an angry bull. "It comes with the big brother contract." Thorin said, as he glided over the tattoo of a cracked skull.

"Well then," Bilbo began, five minutes later. "Looks like all's up to date, as long as this Smaug fella doesn't mess with you."

"When doesn't he mess with me." Thorin grumbled. "He's a selfish, pompous asshole."

"Yeah. So I've heard." Bilbo rose from the chair, putting it back under the desk before he made his way over to the others.

"Beorn," Thorin caught the tall man's attention, waving him over with his free hand. "I need to talk to you for a minute." As Beorn made his way over, Thorin finished up the last touches on the man's tattoo, giving it a rub over with some ointment before wrapping it up.

“Thanks Thorin,” The customer got up, looking more than pleased with the design on his arm. “Looks fantastic.”

“No problem Mike.” Thorin led the man towards the front desk, making Nori get up off his backside to sort out Mike’s fees.

Thorin left them to it to walk on back over to Beorn, who was sitting with his legs up on the fancy tattooing seat, flipping through a magazine he’d presumed had some interesting stuff inside. Thorin happily whacked his feet off the chair, replacing himself to sit on it.

“Spoilsport.”

“Lazy ass.” Thorin retorted. “We need to start that book Legolas wants to give his father.” He said, giving Beorn a slight knock to the knee with his foot for his attention.

“Oh yeah!” Beorn threw the magazine to one side, remembering the big task the young boy had asked them to do. “Forgot about that, how are we going to go about it?”

“I have no idea.” Thorin admitted. “Legolas didn’t exactly give anything away, but I was wondering if you could bind the book together before we start sketching.”

“I can do that.”

“Thank you, all we need is to get Legolas in here and tell us all about these stories his father tells him.”

It was as if the young boy had heard Thorin when suddenly he opened the parlour door, and came skipping into the room with a wide grin splitting his face. Everyone turned to look at him in surprise, only to realise he wasn’t alone, Bard strolling in behind him with a stack of papers tucked under his arm.

Nobody knew what to say, and judging by the Welshman’s silence neither did he. Bard took a hold of Legolas’s hand, standing with him in the middle of the room feeling not so welcome in the uncomfortable atmosphere. It wasn’t like they disliked him or anything.

“So uh,” Bilbo coughed, he was completely in the dark as to why the others were being right weirdoes. “Did the devil just walk in or something?”

No one found it funny of course. Thorin took centre stage, making his way over to the pair once he’d elbowed Beorn to stand up. “Can I help you?” He asked Bard awkwardly.

“Not really.” Bard answered, taking a glimpse at Legolas who was smiling fondly up at the tattooist. “I uh… I just… I came here to… well, thank you, really.”

Thorin’s eyebrows almost disappeared off his forehead in surprise. “For what?”

“For last night, you helped Thranduil, he told me.”

“Oh.” Thorin ran a hand through his hair. The least he was expecting was for Thranduil’s close friend to come and thank him, it didn’t really occur to him how much it would have meant to the man. “It’s uh... it was no problem.”

“You lot are starting to surprise me, you know.” Bard began, noticing how one of the guys was smiling at him from behind the front desk. “Didn’t think you could be so helpful.”

That earned a smile from a few, and even a slight laugh from Nori’s direction. “We have our uses.” Thorin said.

“Thankfully.” Bard joked, patting Legolas on the shoulder. “Listen, we didn’t just come here to thank you. I just picked Legolas up from school and told Thranduil I’d be taking him to the park, but actually, Legolas wanted to talk to you about something.. a surprise?”

“For daddy.” Legolas grinned up at Thorin.

“Yes,” Thorin smiled just as brightly back, getting down on one knee so that he was almost the same height as the little boy. “Me and Beorn over there were just discussing, we’re glad you came here Legolas. We’d like to know much more about your daddy’s stories.”

Legolas nodded with enough enthusiasm to break his head from his shoulders. Thorin took his hand and led him over to his working table, calling Dwalin over to help out, and Ori was more than intrigued by what they were up to and joined them. Bilbo practically threw Nori towards the stairs, demanding he make them all some tea before they dry out and pass out. Which then left Bard alone with Beorn, who was fussing with one of his pieces of wood the shape of a bear.

“Wow,” Bard slowly made his way over to the tall, hulky man, watching as he drew fingers along every crook and angle of the bear. “That’s amazing.”

“Thank you.” Said Beorn, their gaze met and Bard was taken aback by the peculiar colour of greenish brown in the other man’s eyes. “So how come I’ve never met you before?”

Bard chuckled at that. “You really think you’d be able to meet me when our friends are practically at war?”

Beorn smiled. “They _were_ at war. Now, I think we’re safe to enjoy each other’s company.”

“What makes you think we’d enjoy each other’s company?” Bard asked the older man, and he could swear there was a flirtatious hint to the other man’s smile.

“Oh I don’t know, I just think you’re very… eye-catching.”

Bard was hoping he wasn’t blushing like a teenage girl as Beorn kept his eyes fixed on him; he was eyeing him up like he was the best piece of prey he’d seen in a long time. It kind of made Bard want to jump him. Not that he’d admit that to anyone.

“I’m Beorn by the way.” The strong man said, holding out a hand.

The Welshman took this friendly gesture, and gave him a firm handshake in return. “I’m Bard.”

Whilst Nori was passing out the mugs of tea, Bilbo passing around the biscuits as he went, Thorin began the process of noting down Legolas’s stories, making sure Dwalin was getting every detail of Thranduil’s characters right. It didn’t take long before they were all listening in on Legolas’s stories, more impressed than they’d like to admit.

Legolas told them of how his father was an elven King of a grand woodland realm named Mirkwood who rode an elk into battle and wore gowns of silver and green, whilst he was the young prince, faultless with a bow and arrow and eyes that could see beyond miles. The excited boy jumped up and down as he explained Thorin being a brave yet stubborn dwarven king of a gigantic mountain, reaching high up into the skies, it’s name, Erebor. The group couldn’t help but laugh lightly, it was quite fitting.

Legolas described Dwalin as being Thorin’s right hand man, big and strong with his axes, whilst Fili and Kili were his boisterous nephews next in line to the throne. Gandalf, their friend who was also friends with Thranduil, was named Gandalf the Grey, since he was a powerful wizard that protected their world from evil. Then he turned to Bilbo who was told he was a small, rounded man with hairy feet and pointy ears who lived in a peaceful part of their world, when he told them he was called something like a ‘hobbit’ Bilbo’s smile brightened.

The florist’s son also mentioned a man so tall and brawny that he could break rocks with his hands, he lived in the wild with his animal friends, taking care of them as they helped him around their barnlike home. As soon as Legolas had mentioned the man was half bear and could morph into one anytime he chooses, the crew instantly thought of Beorn and Legolas was more than happy to christen him the new bear man in his father’s stories.

It was late afternoon by the time Thorin and Dwalin had put together a good idea of what Legolas wanted, it looked like they had a lot of sketching to do in the near future but knew it would all be worth it when the end project came about. Legolas had looked ecstatic when he saw the rough sketching they’d done on the spot, telling them how his father would be so happy because his stories were being brought to life. Thorin came to realise it was another step closer to helping Thranduil get through his hard time.

When the clock on the wall hit half five, Bard knew it was about time he take Legolas back to his father. Bilbo was also late to get home, his favourite TV show started at six and the London traffic was a nightmare at that time of day. So the short man bid the crew farewell, and made his way out. Only to be stopped by a tall, dark haired man in the doorway.

“Oh.” Bilbo stopped sudden. “Hello.”

Everyone turned to see the one and only Smaug standing there. Bilbo had accidentally bumped head first into the other man’s chest, not phased by it in the slightest. The men in the room waited for the dragon like man to growl out abuse at Bilbo, but surprisingly Smaug only stared at the smaller man with wide eyes and a tight lipped frown.

“I do apologise,” Bilbo began, waving his hands about as he spoke. “I always do all sorts of clumsy things like that, just one of my many traits.” He laughed.

Smaug was silent throughout it, which Bilbo took as a sign to introduce himself. “Bilbo Baggins.” He said, holding his hand out to the tall, skinny man.

Smaug hesitated, glancing around at the other men in the tattoo shop as if waiting for them to do something embarrassing to him. Instead, they kept quiet, watching the scene unfold before them. “Smaug.” The man said, hesitantly taking Bilbo’s hand in his and giving it a firm shake.

“Just Smaug?” Bilbo grinned.

The dark haired man straightened up, lifting his chin in the air. “Smaug Lhug.”

“Oh,” Bilbo chirped, lifting his rucksack higher onto his shoulder. “Lovely name. Well, Smaug, I’d better get going. It was nice meeting you.”

With that said Bilbo sent a wave to everyone at the shop, who were by now wondering why Smaug hadn’t breathed fire yet, and off he went into the outside world with a skip in his step. As soon as he’d left Smaug had turned to glare at Thorin across the room, intent on making his evening hell by the looks of things.

“Why the fuck didn’t Bilbo tell Smaug to piss off?” Dwalin whispered to Thorin as said man entered the shop in silence.

“You know Bilbo,” Thorin answered, eyes watching Smaug like a hawk. “He hates controversy.”

Smaug lingered near the doorway, eyes grazing over every inch of the tattoo parlour before they landed on Bard, Legolas clinging to his leg as he hid behind it. Bard was obviously not happy to see the taller man, if the look of pure hatred was anything to go by, and Smaug just smirked, boots clattering against the hard floor as he walked towards the Welshman.

“Well, well,” he began. “What do we have here?”

“Shove off, monster.” Bard spat, standing his ground firmly.

Smaug only laughed quietly. “Charming as ever, Bowman.”

Thorin growled under his breath, having enough of the way Legolas was practically cowering behind Bard, visibly scared by the man’s presence. The tattooist stormed forward, taking his place next to Bard and taking Smaug’s attention away from the others.

“What are you doing in my shop, Smaug?” He asked calmly, desperately trying not to lose his temper. “Why are you back?”

Smaug breathed in deeply, letting out an irritated sigh. “Mind your tone with me, Oakenshield.” He scowled, Dwalin’s hands clenched tightly while Nori was seconds away from jumping onto his feet. “I have come to recheck this place, upstairs was not looked over properly.”

Thorin in that instant wanted to swing his fist right into the other man’s face, and he’d bet everyone else around him was thinking the same. “You checked yesterday.”

“Like I said,” Smaug smiled, his eyes glaring at Thorin in challenge. “Upstairs need to be rechecked.”

Before anyone could say a single word, Smaug spun around with his coat flying and made his made to the staircase door, making sure to slam it loudly after himself. Thorin let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, and noticed Bard do the same, as everyone else in the room began sending out angry sentences.

“Cheeky little ba-,” Dwalin cut himself off, noticing Legolas being picked up in Bard’s arms. “Bat.”

“What right does he have to do that?” Nori bellowed, kicking at the nearest thing which happened to be a chair leg.

Thorin sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “He has every right.” He said. “He belongs to Erebor, remember?”

“He’s a big, mean dragon!” Legolas frowned, clutching to Bard’s coat.

“That he is.” Bard agreed, taking Legolas’s bag from Beorn.

“Hey,” Ori jumped from the step that led from one side of the room to the other, laughing a little to himself. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?” Dwalin asked, standing a bit too close to the younger man for Nori’s liking.

“Smaug.” Ori said simply. “That’s what you should name the dragon in your dad’s stories, Legolas. It’s perfect.”

Legolas smiled toothily, nodding his head. “Yeah!” he punched the air.

Thorin chuckled, walking over to the list sitting on his desk. He picked up a pen and wrote down Smaug’s name, right next to the word ‘dragon’.

“Good thinking Ori,” Dwalin grinned, swinging an arm around his shoulders, choosing to ignore Nori’s utterly fake coughing. “He is a dragon after all.”

“That’s all he’ll ever be.” Bard said, looping Legolas’s backpack onto his own shoulders. “He’s nothing but a selfish, money grabbing monster.”

Thorin nodded slowly. “He’s the same around you too then?”

“Yeah,” Bard answered, peeking everyone’s interest. “A short while back he was taking rent from Thranduil for the florists, but Legolas wanted to give the money over to him to help, but he accidentally dropped it. Smaug was furious, started shouting at Thranduil and telling him to control his child, then started threatening to burn down the shop if anything happened to his money again.”

Everybody stared wide eyed at Bard, shocked by what they’d heard. It was bad enough that Smaug took his anger out on them, but to get cross over a young boy like Legolas, there was no need.

“He’s indeed a monster.” Thorin snarled.

“He’ll never change.” Bard said, the rest of the group couldn’t disagree for sure. “I’d best go, Thranduil will be wondering where we are.”

Thorin nodded, making sure to say his goodbye to Legolas by ruffling his hair, and sending him a wave as Bard walked to the door. The others said their goodbyes, before taking seats at the back of the shop, awaiting the return of Smaug so that they could all leave together. Beorn walked Bard to the door, opening it for them and stepping outside into the frosty air.

“If he bothers you again,” Beorn began, before Bard could leave. “You tell me and I’ll batter the guy.”

Bard laughed wholeheartedly, adjusting Legolas in his arms. “I’m sure you will.”

Beorn grinned, giving Legolas a high five. “Take care, I hope to see you again soon.”

“You too,” Bard said cheerfully, turning to walk away. “You will see me again soon, that’s for sure.”

Beorn chuckled softly, watching Bard as he crossed the quiet road, sprinting until he got to the florists. He was going to hold him to that promise.

Once Beorn had made his way back inside, the company were still sitting at the back of the room, looking like a load of miserable old men with nothing to do. He joined them, sitting next to Nori as he flicked through a magazine about motorbikes and the tattoos most bikers liked to get for themselves.

Within minutes Smaug had returned, that big smug look etched into his features once more. He didn’t even say a word as he made his way out, making sure to send Thorin a look of distaste before he closed the front door not so carefully. Thorin stared at it for what seemed like a lifetime, deciding in his head whether he should run Smaug over with a car, or just get Bilbo to kill him with kindness. Either way, he wouldn’t have to see that dragon ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to yell at me if I don't update regularly!


	13. Kiss but don't tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Kili get a little too close.. while Thorin and Thranduil meet again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update that didn't take over a year!

The weekend rolled around rather quickly for the Durin brothers, who’s week had been a good one since they’d both started speaking to one another again. It was like nothing had happened between them, although sometimes Kili would look at Fili when he couldn’t see him, and remember that he had not so brotherly feelings for the young man. Those times when he’d play back their night of passion in his head were even worse, and he’d choose to either ignore Fili’s presence or walk away all together which was the best thing to do. Other than that, he was trying, very hard, to move on.

Fili had shoved whatever happened in the past between them to the corner of his brain that he could lock up, never to revisit what went on. It was easier for him, although sometimes he would catch Kili staring and that made him nervous. He didn’t know why, but every time he felt his brother’s gaze on him, he’d feel his cheeks heat up and his hands started to sweat, and as soon as he’d turn around to ask Kili what was the matter his brother would be looking at anything but him. Fili wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not even his uncle, but things certainly had changed between his brother and himself, and he was trying everything in his power to get back to normal.

“Hey, Fili,” Kili called from across the kitchen, throwing what seemed like a whole bag of flour into the mixing machine. “Chuck me the butter would you?”

Fili put down the bag of smarties he had in his hands, picking up the tub of butter on the counter and taking it to his brother. As he got to him Kili tipped the rest of the bag of flour into the mixture, but instead of pouring in with ease the flour slipped into the machine with a big flop sending an enormous cloud of powder into the air, covering Fili and Kili from head to toe. The brothers jumped back in surprise, coughing against the attack of flour.

“Shit!” Kili cursed, chucking the now empty brown bag onto the floor to wave away the rest of the powder still lurking around him.

Fili coughed once or twice before the flour settled on the floor. The baker looked over to his brother who was staring down at his white clothes, when suddenly he was laughing, he began laughing so hard he had to grip onto the counter to stop himself from falling over. He instantly caught Kili’s attention, the brunette looked up at his brother and saw exactly why he couldn’t stop laughing. They were covered, literally smothered in white powder, from every inch of their hair to their eyelashes and neck, all the way down to their shoes.

The brothers caught each other’s gaze, Fili biting his lip while Kili tried so hard not to let himself go. But within seconds the both of them began laughing out loud, leaning onto the closest thing available.

“Oh my god,” Kili chuckled noisily, making his way over to the counter to pick up a towel. “We look like a pair of crazy stoners.”

Fili laughed lightly, taking the offered towel from his brother. “I can’t believe that happened.”

“Pure bad luck,” Kili grinned, wiping down the flour around his neck and face. “Looks like we’re going to have to bake with white hair.”

“And white eyelashes.” Fili smiled, noticing the bits of flour sticking to Kili’s eyelashes.

“Oh yeah,” Kili chuckled softly. Fili was trying to a great extent to rub the stuff off of his face and hair, giving up after a few tries and guessing he couldn’t look too bad since Kili had managed to get rid of most of the muck on his own face. “You missed a bit.”

Fili was about to put down the towel when his brother spoke, Kili pointing toward his own cheek. “Just there.”

Fili rolled his eyes, typical. “There?” He asked, rubbing roughly at the spot on his cheek.

“No,” Kili chuckled, taking the towel from Fili’s hand. He was never good at cleaning himself after baking. “Just there.” Kili said, reaching the towel towards Fili’s cheek.

Kili leaned forward, just enough to get a good look at the flour that stuck to the corner of Fili’s eye. Fili flinched when his brother almost poked him in the eye, but let him continue, he didn’t exactly want to walk around looking like Casper the friendly flour ghost. He’d thought Kili was finished after a couple of scrubs, but when the taller man stepped closer and used his free hand to lift Fili’s chin, the younger Durin’s breath caught in his chest.

“What-,”

“It’s stubborn.” Kili smiled, rubbing the towel gently around Fili’s temple before chucking the towel onto the counter. “Your eyelashes are all white.” Kili grinned, making Fili laugh lightly at the thought. “Here, close your eyes.”

Fili hesitated for just a second, but did as he was told. When the room went dark from shutting his eyes he waited, out of the blue he felt Kili’s gentle fingers run along his closed eyes getting every bit of white flour off, before he began using his thumbs to run across his eyelashes. Fili sighed, feeling almost like going to sleep at the soft feel of Kili’s thumbs sliding along his eyelashes.

“There.” Kili said, his voice almost inaudible.

Fili opened his eyes slowly, coming face to face with his brother. Kili was so close he could feel the warmth of his breath, he looked right into Fili’s eyes and didn’t move his gaze as his thumbs moved unhurriedly down his cheeks where Kili’s hands still held in place. Fili could feel his cheeks burning up as Kili’s stare travelled towards his lips, watching as Kili bit down on the bottom of his own lip. Fili wanted to push him away, ask him what the hell he was thinking, but he couldn’t, for some strange reason he was stuck standing there watching as their lips came closer.

“Kili.” Fili whispered, his breathing reaching breaking point.

His brother was going to kiss him, he knew it’s what he wanted, and Fili didn’t want him to pull away. On the inside he was beginning to panic, all sorts of things running through his head. That was until a loud knock echoed through the huge room.

Fili jumped back in shock while Kili’s hands dropped to his sides, their gaze shooting towards the door to the kitchen. In strolled a rather merry looking Bifur, the buff man smiled from ear to ear as he came across the two brothers, sending them both a wave in greeting.

“Bifur,” Fili said, stepping past Kili to greet the older man with a hug. “What brings you here?”

Bifur merely answered by pulling a sandwich out of his back pocket. “It’s time for a break then?” Fili asked with a grin, and Bifur nodded cheerfully.

The comic book fan wiggled his sandwich in the air before gesturing to the brothers to follow him out front, and off he went through the kitchen door with his lunch in hand. Fili turned to Kili, “Coming?”

“Fi,” Kili began, walking up to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-,”

“It’s fine.” Fili cut in, undoing his apron to throw onto the nearest worktop. He didn’t want to talk about it, not again. “Don’t worry about it Kili, alright?”

Kili nodded slowly, and swallowed hard. “Alright.”

Fili sent him a small smile, he debated in his head whether to reach out and touch his brother’s arm, just to show him everything was still okay. In the end he decided to just turn away, and let his older brother follow him through the kitchen door to the front of the bakery. Kili did, but he couldn’t help the sinking feeling he had in his stomach. All he wanted to do was hit himself right in the gut for being such an idiot.

*****

“Two sugars for Nori right?” Beorn asked Thorin.

The two were currently upstairs at the tattoo parlour, making cups of tea for the rest of the group who were, as they’d called it, working their asses off. “I’m sure it was three last time,” Thorin answered, getting the milk out of the fridge. “He changes his sugar levels most days.”

Beorn chuckled deeply, plotting three sugars into Nori’s mug. Thorin placed the milk down on the worktop before leaning against it, Beorn flicking the switch for the kettle to boil. The tattooist and the sculptor soon got into conversation about their morning clients, bitching about how one didn’t have the decency to say thank you for the arm long tattoo Thorin worked on tiredly for five hours without even getting up to have a break.

The room soon became silent for a few minutes when Beorn realised he hadn’t filled the kettle high enough for four mugs of tea, while Thorin’s thoughts drifted away to the week just past. His mind went back to Thranduil, for some reason he couldn’t put his finger on, and the florist’s son who he had grown very fond of. It was as if Beorn read his mind when he began to speak after filling up the kettle for the second time.

“So, spoken to Thranduil lately?”

Thorin’s head lifted from staring at the blank floor, eyes widening in surprise at the mention of the other man. “Why ask me?”

Beorn laughed, turning to pour the tea when the kettle let off a quiet click. “Thorin, you’re making amends remember? You’ve been so good with him lately, thought you might have spoken to him since the other night.”

“No,” Thorin let out in a quiet rasp. “No I haven’t, I haven’t seen him around.”

“Maybe you should go see him?” Beorn suggested.

Thorin only shrugged. “I guess, he might just want to be alone.”

“Maybe,” Beorn said, passing his and Dwalin’s tea to the head tattooist. “Or maybe he’s just too afraid to leave the safety of his work and home. Wouldn’t it be best if you went to him?”

Thorin thought for a moment. Thranduil had seemed to spend a lot of time at his florists, and every time he caught a glimpse of him he was going straight to his house or merely walking Legolas somewhere. Thorin never thought about whether Thranduil would want company, if he would rather be by himself or just slowly get back into socialising all on his own. But there was no harm in trying.

“Yeah,” Thorin nodded, heading to the stairs. “Maybe I should go and see him.”

“That’s my King.” Beorn chortled openly, earning a questioning glance from Thorin as he stopped in his stride.

“King?”

“Yeah,” Beorn grinned, remembering what Legolas had told him not long ago. “King of Erebor, of course.” He stated, before descending the steps first.

Thorin let out a quiet chuckle, and couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his lips.

When Beorn and Thorin arrived downstairs, it seemed quieter than it had been simply minutes ago, since Nori and Dwalin’s customers were a right chatty pair. But judging by the pained expression on both the clients faces, the two guessed that they couldn’t talk over the throbbing of the needles jutting in and out of their bony flesh.

“Holding up?” Thorin asked Dwalin’s client, placing the tattooist’s mug down on his work surface.

“I’m… surviving.” The customer said between clenched teeth, earning a slight smirk from Thorin. Who said tattoos were painless?

“Almost done,” Dwalin indicated, changing his needles over to colour. “When’s your next customer Thorin?”

Thorin took a sip of his tea and flinched, noting to himself not to drink tea whilst still boiling hot. “Not until five, just a small one.”

“Lucky bastard,” Nori shouted from across the room.

“Hey,” Thorin shrugged, plonking himself into a chair at his workstation. He picked up a magazine and started flipping through it. “I worked five hours straight since eight this morning, I deserve a damn long break.”

Nori snorted, “Good point, genius.”

Thorin grinned in return, and came across a puzzle at the back of his book. May as well waste some time before his next client. The shop’s atmosphere soon turned into one of stillness, only the faint buzz coming from the tattooing needles, and the scraping of Beorn’s tools on his latest wood project. Thorin sighed quietly, picking up a pen laying on his worktop and writing in an answer to the crossword. He always felt like a bit of an old man doing the crosswords, but hell, he was no young and slick youngster anymore.

The silence was soon penetrated, of course it would be, especially if it was Nori who had something to say about it. “Jesus, we’re all a bunch of old men.”

Everyone laughed, but couldn’t agree more. Soon the lot of them began a conversation about the latest movies out in the cinema, which turned into naming the top ten most attractive actors and actresses in the business, before Thorin rolled his eyes at Nori’s blunt response of how good some actors looked in their tight swimsuits. He had weird taste in men apparently, after mentioning a few actors that were at least sixty and had hair growing out of places that it shouldn’t.

The two customers who were limping to the reception desk left with big smiles on their faces, pleased to the high heavens about their tattoos, and also laughing at Nori’s statements as he continued to comment on celebrities. The others just rolled their eyes, sitting at their work stations as Nori babbled on, used to his never ending statements.

It soon became lively again when Ori walked through the door. The entire shop shouted their greeting, making Ori blush at the attention, it’s not like he was shy or anything. In his arms he held quite a large basket, and in that basket there sat tons of different flavoured muffins, ranging from blueberry to banana and toffee. The tattooists cheered once Ori had lifted off the orange cloth, knowing exactly who could have put Ori up to the surprise muffin delivery.

“Bombur’s bloody brilliant,” Beorn laughed, taking the heavy basked out of Ori’s hands. “How are you little Ori?”

“I’m well thank you,” Ori smiled, helping Beorn arrange the basket onto the front desk. “Bombur told me to hand out one each to you all, he wanted to apologise for not coming to see you all lately.”

“That’s our Bombur, the softy.” Dwalin chuckled, leaping out of his seat to join Ori. “Wonderful to see you, Ori.” He said, making Ori blush harder than before.

“Hello, Dwalin.”

Dwalin grinned happily, choosing a chocolate chip muffin. “Why don’t you come take a seat?”

“Okay,” Ori answered shyly, following Dwalin to the back of the shop.

Ori took a seat next to the Scotsman, laughing as Dwalin almost dropped the muffin onto the floor, barely catching it in time. Nori wasn’t impressed, no surrey, he fake coughed which earned his brother’s full attention. Ori looked over, only now realising that he wasn’t exactly being too careful around Dwalin, he instantly stopped laughing.

“No hello to your own brother?” Nori said, pretending to look extremely upset. “I feel loved.”

Ori smiled, and being such a great brother he got up and tackled Nori in a rib crushing hug. “Sorry,” he said, standing straight. “Guess I thought you had too much love from me already.”

Nori rolled his eyes. “Get lost.” Ori laughed along with the others, and took his seat next to Dwalin once again. “Oi, Beorn. Throw me a blueberry would you?”

“Make mine a toffee.” Thorin threw in, earning a not so impressed look from Beorn.

“Not a slave, assholes.” Beorn called from his front desk.

The bear man took hold of both muffins anyway, and not so carefully threw them Thorin and Nori’s way. Luckily Thorin was really good at catching, Nori though, not so much. The blueberry muffin landed smack hard on his chest, splattering some of the cake onto his shirt, making Nori whine at the newly formed stain that resembled a splodge of purple and blue paint.

“You better pray to god blueberry don’t stain!”

“Or what?” Beorn grinned, taking a big bite out of his own muffin, before turning to face the window and tackle his wood assignment.

The other three laughed quietly as Nori began mumbling to himself whilst trying to rub off the blueberry cake on his shirt, “Bloody hell.”

Thorin rolled his eyes, bending down to retrieve a cloth from his station. “Use this, it’ll come out you idiot.”

“Cheers dickhead.” Nori replied, taking the cloth and rubbing at the stain furiously, making his chair spin around at the same time.

Thorin chuckled deep in his throat, starting to pick at his own muffin. He was about to chuck a piece into his mouth when he stopped himself, shocked by the scene playing out in front of him. There, right in front of his very own eyes, Dwalin leant over and kissed Ori on the lips. Thorin’s jaw almost touched the floor, and he instantly looked over to see if Nori had seen himself, luckily his chair was facing away from the pair which gave the other two a chance.

Thorin saw Ori push Dwalin away quickly, his eyes widening and his cheeks turning blood red. Before the young artist could catch his gaze, Thorin turned his head to the left, pretending that he had been watching Nori scrub at his shirt the whole time. Thorin exhaled sharply in relief, partly because he didn’t want Ori to know he saw, and partly because Nori was too in love with his shirt to turn around.

Meanwhile, Ori leaned towards Dwalin and whispered for only him to hear. “Dwalin! Why did you do that?” he asked frantically, his eyes averting to his brother and Thorin to make sure they really were looking the other way. “They’re right there!”

Dwalin only smiled, shrugging as if it weren’t a big deal. “Ori, sweetheart, they’re nowhere near interested, they’re not looking. I just really wanted to kiss you.”

Ori could practically feel himself blush by now, and he didn’t have anything to say to Dwalin’s words. The Scotsman chuckled softly, offering the younger man a piece of his chocolate muffin. Ori smiled sweetly, accepting the offered cake and didn’t have much else to say about the matter. Neither of them noticed the sneaky smirk that Thorin had on his face as he brought the muffin to his lips.

It took another hour of free time before Dwalin and Nori’s next clients came through the door, one with a likeness for gothic art and the other wanting his child’s name on his hand. The pair got straight to it, Nori’s lovely blueberry stain got a curious questioning from his customer, he just told him that his workmates were a bunch of food wasting idiots who were going to get what’s coming to them. The others only laughed to themselves.

Ori was fascinated by the way tattoos worked, so he joined Dwalin, watching how he casually drew the needle back and forth across the skin, flawlessly decorating the man’s shoulder with black and white patterns. Whilst Dwalin and Nori were preoccupied, Thorin took a seat beside Beorn, picking up some interesting tips on how he carved his wooden blocks into such amazing sculptures.

Thorin of course wouldn’t even attempt to do what Beorn was doing, it took a huge amount of skill and patience that Thorin couldn’t reach, he was happy with just pencil and paper and of course his ink and needles. The most he’d ever gotten out of sculpturing was when he was still in school, making animals and heads out of clay. Thorin remembered once he’d made the head of his sister, who got so freaked out by it sitting on her mantelpiece that she had to take it down within two days. Thorin smiled to himself at the memory.

Thorin was just thinking of his sister when they’d taking art class together, when suddenly there was a loud gasp from Dwalin’s side of the room. Ori jumped up from his chair with a look of absolute worry on his face, luckily Dwalin had decided to pick the needle in his hand up off his customer’s skin when Ori had almost given him a heart attack.

“Sorry!” Ori apologised sincerely to Dwalin, who only chuckled deeply in response before continuing. “I just remembered, the rest of the muffins.”

“What about them?” Nori asked curiously, finishing up on his customer’s tattoo. “Not all for us then?”

“Of course not,” Ori said as a matter of fact, throwing the thin orange fabric back over the muffins. “They’re for Thranduil.”

Thorin’s head snapped up from the newspaper currently gripped in his hands. “Thranduil?”

Ori nodded, slinging the basket onto his arm. “Yes, Bombur wanted him to feel better, so baked him and his son some too.”

“Of course he did,” Dwalin laughed wholeheartedly. “He’s got a big heart.”

The others nodded in agreement. Nori even mentioned how he hoped Thranduil enjoyed them, making Ori proud of his brother for finally giving the florist a chance like everyone else. “I’ll be back shortly.” Ori told them, making his way to the door.

Thorin had about four seconds before Ori would leave through that door. In his head he argued with himself if he should tag along, he had no clients for another hour and the others would be fine on their own, then again, would Thranduil even be there. Thorin had his answer when he looked up and met Beorn’s gaze, the other man raised an eyebrow and tightened his lips, as if saying what the hell are you waiting for? Thorin chuckled, giving Beorn’s leg a quick whack before he shot up out of his seat.

“Ori,” Thorin called, just before he closed the door behind him. “Wait up, I’ll come with you.”

Ori’s small smile grew into a wide grin.

It had been quite a long time since Thorin Oakenshield had stepped foot into Mirkwood territory. There were the reasons for that of course, the last time he was there didn’t quite go as well as he’d planned, but this time he hoped things would be a little less… confrontational. He had to admit he was kind of nervous, the night Thranduil had bumped his head he went into helping mode, not caring how Thranduil would have reacted to his presence as long as he was taken care of. Now, it was a little different, since their so called surrender he had to act as if they’re years of wrangling each other’s throats hadn’t existed.

Every time he thought of seeing Thranduil face to face now, it made him a little anxious. He had no clue as to why of course, and frankly, he didn’t want to know. As long as he could help out the other man, then everything was in top shape. Going through the wooden door of the florists, Thorin didn’t even realise he’d been holding his breath, until Ori urged him to walk in front of him and make themselves known. A stranger walked by them holding a stunning bouquet of roses in his hand, Thorin wondered who the special person was who was going to receive them.

The pair walked through the mounds of different coloured flowers, past the gigantic elk in the middle of the room and came up to the front desk. Nobody was behind it, but a plate full of gummy bears sat on it, telling them that someone was bound to be back shortly unless they were there for just making the table look prettier. As if on cue, Thorin and Ori heard whistling growing louder and from the back door of the shop strolled Bard, two big boxes tucked under both arms.

He didn’t seem to notice them at first, but as he walked around to the front desk he almost dropped the boxes in fright, Thorin trying very hard not to laugh at the Welshman’s stunned expression. “Jesus bloody Christ,” Bard breathed out, tossing the boxes onto the desk with a deep sigh. “You two training to be burglars or something?”

Ori laughed sweetly, putting down the basket of muffins on a bare square on the counter. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to.”

Bard waved them off, coming around to stand behind the counter and giving them both a nod in welcome. “What brings you two here?” he asked curiously. “It’s Ori right?” he directed at the young artist.

“Yes,” Ori answered. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too,” Bard said with a smile. “Thorin, didn’t think I’d see you here again.” He joked, putting on a friendly smile.

“Thought I’d tag along.” Thorin said, not mentioning the fact that he was actually there to see how Thranduil was doing. “Ori brought Thranduil something.” He gestured towards the basket sitting on the desk.

“Oh yeah?” Bard peaked over at it in curiosity, Ori reaching over to pull off the orange material that kept them hidden. “Holy shit, it’s heaven in a basket.”

Ori and Thorin laughed a little, the younger of the two leaving the orange cloth on the worktop. “They’re from Bombur, he wanted to make sure Thranduil was eating plenty.”

“He did?” Bard felt a wave of appreciation run through him at that very moment, suddenly gaining some real fondness for the people who he’d once called his ‘foes’. “That’s… that’s so very nice of him. And nice of you to bring them to him.” He said with a sincere smile.

“I was happy to.” Ori said softly, sending the Welshman a caring smile.

Bard grinned, noticing there were chocolate chip muffins, Thranduil’s favourite. “I’ll go get him.”

“He’s here?” Thorin asked, he’d thought if Bard was working then Thranduil might have been out somewhere or at home. But apparently not.

“Course he is,” Bard said, making his way up the stairs. “I’ll be right back!”

Ori turned to Thorin with a smile, before curiosity got the best of him and he noticed a thick, old looking book laying on the desk. It was a book full of Thranduil’s flower designs, one that Ori couldn’t help but look through. Every page was incredible, every bouquet and flower arrangement sketched out and coloured to perfection. Ori took in every detail.

Whilst Ori busied himself by looking at the designs, Thorin decided to take a look around himself. He’d never really taken in every feature of each flower in the shop, or the colours decorating the walls, or even the gorgeous art that was dancing across the ceiling as if telling a story. The tattooist remembered Legolas telling him about Thranduil’s stories, mentioning the lovely flower gardens the elven king would walk through, to the grand halls of his kingdom underground. Looking at the displays at the florists Thorin was immediately inspired.

Thorin took a glimpse at every flower, from the tulips to the pansies, each one with a bright and magnificent colour. He studied the tall elk statue standing proud on its perch while imagining Thranduil sitting atop it in his kingly gown, and the engravings on some of the wooden shelves that were up against the wall that would look magnificent carved into the ceiling of an elven home. Within minutes Thorin had a good idea of how he was going to bring Thranduil’s stories to life, for his own shop looked like it had jumped out of the page of a fantasy novel.

Thorin became transfixed with a row of different coloured daisies near the window, it looked like a piece of art rather than a display. He became so charmed by them that he didn’t even hear Ori call his name, until the young man had to call him at least three times to snap him out of it. Thorin quickly looked towards his friend to answer, when he caught icy blue eyes gazing at him.

“Hello.” Thranduil said quietly from where he stood next to Bard, he even smiled a little.

“H-Hello,” Thorin coughed awkwardly as he stuck his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, making his way over to join the other three.

“Anyway,” Bard caught both their attention, pushing the basket of muffins over to a confused Thranduil. “Bombur the baker made you these, apparently he thinks you’re too skinny.”

Ori and Thorin laughed quietly, but didn’t miss the look of pure surprise on Thranduil’s face as he looked at the delicious desserts. “These… these are really for us?”

“For you,” Bard corrected, although he knew for sure there was no way Thranduil wouldn’t share.

“Bombur’s a great baker,” Thorin began, meeting Thranduil’s wide eyed stare. “I think you’ll enjoy.”

Thranduil nodded slowly, still not believing the kindness that someone he didn’t even know had shown. “Please, thank him for me.”

“Of course,” Thorin smiled, noticing how Thranduil’s gaze hadn’t moved from his own.

“Well,” Bard spoke up, making the two stand to his attention. “Ori? How’s about I put the kettle on and you can come help, huh?”

“Oh,” Ori let out, Bard was raising his eyebrows so far up they could have disappeared into his hairline. When Thranduil and Thorin averted their gaze onto something else, Bard nodded his head to the side, hoping Ori would get the whole ‘let’s leave these two for a minute’ message. “Oh!” Ori inhaled loudly, then covered it up with a laugh. “Yes, yes of course. I can help.”

“Fantastic.” Bard grinned. “Thorin? Milk and sugar?”

“Uh,” Thorin was caught off guard, only now realising they’d both just been invited to stay for some tea. “Yes… um, yes please.”

“Great,” Bard waved Ori over with his hand, then began to disappear up the stairs. “Be back in a minute.” He yelled over his shoulder.

So, Thranduil and Thorin were left alone. It wasn’t like they hadn’t been alone before, but last time when it was just the two of them Thranduil had been in a mess, and Thorin had basically been in a panic to try and help him. Now though, it was just them and nobody else standing there in the middle of the shop, looking at anything else in the place but each other.

Thorin swayed on his feet, kicking the side of his shoe with the other until he noticed Thranduil fidgeting at the corner of his eye. The florist picked at the hem of his exceedingly big grey jumper that looked way too large to be his size, whilst he bit on his bottom lip. Must be a habit of his, Thorin thought to himself. He soon made himself turn away and not seem like a weirdo staring at Thranduil’s lips, instead Thorin let his eyes wonder onto the painted ceiling, something he’d stared at for a long while not long ago.

Within minutes Thorin couldn’t stand the silence anymore, he wasn’t one for staying quiet for too long, and besides, the same pattern he was staring at just didn’t seem to be that interesting after a while. So he turned to Thranduil who looked up as he faced him, their eyes meeting once again. Neither said a word for what seemed like a century, but after only mere seconds they both spoke, at exactly the same time.

“Thorin-,”

“When-,”

They both stared at one another in disbelief. When out of the blue Thranduil began laughing, actual laughter, something Thorin hadn’t heard properly from the florist before. Thorin couldn’t help but start to laugh along with him, the bright smile on Thranduil’s lips becoming highly contagious. Thranduil covered his mouth with his hand to try and stop himself, calming down once he’d averted his gaze to the floor. Thorin thought to himself, Thranduil really should smile more often.

“Sorry,” Thranduil apologised, folding his arms across his chest, but the hint of a smile still lingering on his lips. “Don’t know why I found that so funny.”

“That’s alright,” Thorin chuckled shortly. “It’s good to see you laugh.”

Thranduil’s blue eyes widened at Thorin’s honesty, and couldn’t help the heat that flushed his cheeks. Of course Thorin noticed, how could he not when Thranduil suddenly became a deer stuck in the headlights. The florist suddenly bowed his head, playing with the end of his sleeves again, as if trying to distract himself by doing something.

Thorin hoped to the high heavens that he hadn’t just embarrassed Thranduil, and he’d suddenly walk away without a word. Two minutes of them actually talking to one another, then he had to go and ruin it all by saying something blunt and stupidly straightforward. Luckily Thranduil didn’t make a move, instead he caught Thorin’s gaze, and in all seriousness began to talk.

“Thorin,” he said. “I still haven’t thanked you, for what you did for me the other night.”

“Thranduil,” Thorin began, but was cut of instantly.

“No, please,” Thranduil said earnestly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I mean it when I say thank you, you we’re great that night and if it wasn’t for you I don’t know what I would have done. I think it would have been a whole lot worse.” He practically whispered. “Thank you, so much.”

Thorin could hear the sincerity in the other man’s voice, and it made him smile. “You’re welcome, Thranduil.” He said. “I’m just glad that we can put our past behind us.”

Thranduil nodded slowly. “Yes,” he agreed, a smile spreading across his lips. “I must admit, having a normal conversation with you is a lot less stressing than arguing with you.”

Thorin chuckled deeply, and nodded. “Definitely, I think we both have had enough years of it for sure.” Thranduil couldn’t have agreed more, and now was not the time to still be going at it. “But, you’re feeling better right? After… you know. Your boyfriend’s passing.” Thorin tried to word it properly, but immediately flinched at his own wording.

“Oh, um yes,” Thranduil answered, looking down at his shoes. “I’m fine, I…” he paused, Thorin noticing the way he bit down hard on his bottom lip. “I’m moving on, I guess.”

“That’s good,” Thorin said seriously. “It’s a start, Thranduil.”

“Yes,” Thranduil said. “Yes it is.”

“Oi!”

The two men jumped at the loud yelling that came from up the stairs, to no surprise it was Bard who came gliding down the steps, look of pure concentration on his face as he carried two mugs of tea in his hand. Ori came next with his two mugs, almost laughing at the way Bard cheered once he put the cups down without any spillage.

Within seconds Bard had pulled up four stools next to the counter, and made sure everyone had the right cups of tea. And that’s how they spent the next half hour or so, sitting in their chairs with their mugs of tea, and chatting about whatever Bard thought was a good idea. Thorin chipped in whenever he could, and Ori did most of the answering, but Thranduil stayed quiet, he seemed to shrink in on himself as if he were too afraid to say anything.

Only Thorin noticed, which had him debating if he should get Thranduil to join in or leave him be. The florist was listening that much was clear, and when he let out a laugh at something random Ori had brought up, Thorin knew his answer. Maybe Thranduil just wanted to sit back and listen, in time he would come out of his shell again. He didn’t blame him for wanting to just relax a little.

By the time Bard and Ori had brought up the conversation about the newest dancing show on Saturday nights, Thorin had completely forgot about the customer that was coming in for a tattoo at five o’clock. Looking down at his watch Thorin cursed under his breath, leaping out of his chair and getting everyone’s attention.

“I’m sorry,” he explained. “I’ve got an appointment, I really have to go.”

“Oh,” Ori got up too, waving Thorin off after telling him he could stay of course. “I didn’t realise the time either, was meant to pick up something from Bomburs before the bakery shut.”

“Well gentlemen,” Bard said, standing alongside Thranduil. “It was a pleasure spending time with you, I dare say.”

Thorin and Ori both laughed, agreeing completely that it had been a surprisingly nice chat. And once again Bard and Thranduil surprised them by walking them to the door, and thanking them for their company, the florist even sending Thorin a grateful smile as they stepped through the door. Ori seemed to notice, and the entire way back to the tattoo parlour the young man couldn’t help but tease the tattooist.

“You must have a way with him,” Ori grinned. “He smiled, really happily.”

“He’s just being polite.” Thorin rolled his eyes, noting to himself that Nori was a bad influence on his younger brother.

“Polite,” Ori hummed, crossing the street. “Or just plain happy to see you.”

Thorin couldn’t help the laugh that passed his lips, nor the strange flutter in his stomach at the thought that Thranduil would be happy to see him.

Once the two had gone back inside the parlour, Ori was quick to make his leave to Bomburs, while Thorin set up his station for his next client. Of course the others wanted to know how their visit at the florists went, dragging detail after detail out of Thorin, while Ori left with a huge cheeky grin on his face. Yes, he was turning into another Nori.

By the time he was finished telling them that yes, Thranduil didn’t want to punch his face in anymore, and no, they both were not thinking of making babies anytime soon, Thorin’s client walked through the door and took a seat at the waiting area. Nori busied himself with drawing up a tattoo someone had asked for while Thorin was away, while Beorn marked down the clients they’d had in the last week.

Dwalin had other ideas, by simply not letting Thorin’s new friendship with Thranduil go.

“Did you both get any time alone then?” Dwalin asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“For fuck sake Dwalin,” Thorin sighed, plastering the customers chair with paper towel. “We talked, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but did you flirt?” Dwalin grinned cheekily.

Thorin just gave him the look of pure pissed off. “We’re friends you dick, I don’t know what made you think otherwise.”

Dwalin shrugged, suddenly becoming a little less humorous. “Two single guys, who find out they actually can get along, you never know.”

Thorin just rolled his eyes, watching the smirk rise on the Scotsman’s lips. Thorin soon found himself smirking back, when he thought of something he’d meant to bring up earlier. “Talking of two single guys who can actually get along.” He said, waving over his customer as he carried on talking. “You and Ori a couple, didn’t see that one coming.”

Thorin laughed quietly at the vanishing of colour from Dwalin’s face, “What?” he chocked out.

“Oh yeah,” Thorin nodded, getting his needles prepared. “I saw Dwalin, I saw you trying to give Nori the slip.”

Dwalin cursed, “Bloody hell, Ori told me not to do it. Thank fuck it was you and not Nori who saw us.”

Thorin just grinned, patting Dwalin on the shoulder roughly. “You know I won’t say a word,” he said. “But be careful, if it was Nori the whole street would know about your relationship.”

“Aye,” Dwalin sighed, slopping low in his chair. “Mind if I tell Ori you know? So you know, he doesn’t find out longer down the line.”

“Of course,” Thorin said with a smile, starting up the needle as his customer took a seat close enough for him to get to. “So, tell me, how did you both get together?”

Dwalin caught Thorin’s word whilst away in his own thoughts, but couldn’t help but smile at the question. So for the next half hour or so, Dwalin told Thorin about him and Ori, and every time Nori came within a two feet distance of them they pretended to be discussing that week’s episode of the Nanny diaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of anything dramatic happening! I swear stuff will start picking up soon.. especially for Thorinduil and Fili/Kili


End file.
